Innocence
by tpgddss
Summary: He's been living in his late father's shadow, she's worked her whole life just to make ends meet. That's real life. The two of them finding one another? That's just magical.
1. Default Chapter

Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

My reflection.

An image of myself.

A mirror is supposed t to reflect things just as they are, without distortion. It has no opinion of its own to add to what it replicates, no mind to judge what it sees. It does what it is supposed to and adds not a fraction more nor takes not an iota away from that which is. It is the materialization of truth itself. If that is so, then I have but one question to ask.

Why isn't the girl in the mirror crying with me?

"Misao-chan! Misao?!"

I sigh deeply, moving my attention to another point on the glass surface rather than bothering to turn around. "What is it Yuki?" I quietly ask.

She moves out of the darkness beyond the bead curtain that marks this space as my own. Her pale eyelids have been dusted with white sparkly eye shadow and her tiny mouth painted the color of ripe pomegranates. She is beautiful by any standard, slim and petite with smooth, pale skin that glows like snow in moonlight. Her voice is reminiscent of the colder months as well. No matter how loudly she tries to shout I am still reminded of the gentle music of icicles blown by the wind when she speaks. She is, as her namesake suggests, a true winter princess.

"Misao," she repeats in that icy tinkling, "There's a group outside that's asking for you specifically."

I smile slightly at her through the mirror, "Is that so?" I say, "What do they look like?"

Her eyes light up like twin stars for a moment, "Well, the one that came and asked for you was really good-looking!" she tinkles, "He's tall and dark complexioned with a great body and the cutest brown puppy-dog eyes! Do you know him, Misao-chan?"

"Unfortunately, yes." I reply, slouching back in my chair. I know exactly who she is talking about, a brash young fellow who came into the bar about a month ago. I can't recall his name, but it was funny-sounding, like a circus performer's. What I do remember though, is the large bill he used to tip me without so much as a second thought to what he was doing. When the surprise showed on my face he simply pulled five similar bills from his pocket, saying I was worth the tip.

"So," Yuki prompts, eagerly leaning forward, "Who is he?"

"Just some rich kid," I answer simply, "Which room are they in?"

"I think Mashiro put them in number seven," she reports, "So you're going then?"

I shrug as I stand up, "Girl's got to make a living," I reply.

As I leave the room I steal a glance at the mirror again. The face that stares back at me is still youthful and fresh under it's layer of paint, a confident smirk adorning its rouged lips. Why can't the mirror see that I don't feel that way? Heaven only knows.

***********************************************

Why did I let the guys drag me here?

It's true that they did it only to surprise me, but even so I can't help but wish that Sanosuke had not convinced the others to come to this place. They on the other hand seem thrilled to be alive, but that can have just as much to do with the alcohol in their systems as it does with their present geographical location.

After a while Sanosuke stands up, or rather, holds on to Shirojou's shoulder for support as he wobbles in place. His umpteenth glass of sake splashes unsteadily in his hand as he extends it in my direction.

"Hear ye, here ye," he drawls with a grin, "As all of you know, tonight we celebrate our dear friend's twenty-first year on the planet " 

The announcement elicits a low chorus of grunts around the room as the other guys copy him by raising their assortment of bottles and glasses as well. I blush in embarrassment as I hide my face with my hair. Despite my choice of friends I don't enjoy these things as much as they do. Getting drunk and participating in debauchery just isn't at the top of my list, you know? 

Sano grins down at me at the sight of my blush. "Oi, oi, none of that," he commands, "You're a big boy now, big enough to enjoy the show that we've arranged for you birthday boy….legally that is."

The joke ripples across the group for a bit, causing me to blush even harder. The urge to crawl under the carpet and die is extremely overwhelming, but the fact that my legs refuse to move makes the notion just about impossible to obey.

There is a small stage that takes up about half the room. Lights line a white walkway leading up to a silver pole that extends from the ceiling to the floor. This is undoubtedly the place where the so-called show is to take place.

"Lady Jade!" Sano shouts hoarsely to the curtains at the back, "Your loyal subjects await thee!" 

The snickers rise again only to be drowned out by the music that suddenly fills the already crowded space. I jump at the sudden harshness of the sound, swallowing forcefully as I cast a nervous glance toward the curtains myself. My eyes widen considerably as a nylon-wrapped leg melts out of the fabric, stretching out to its full length before traveling downward again to pull the rest of the person's body out of hiding.

In one smooth, sensuous movement she rolls her head backward revealing a face that was previously hidden by an unbelievably long mass of midnight hair. Lazily, she opens her eyes to focus on mine, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her dark red lips as she moves toward the pole with almost painfully slow strides. I must look like a beached fish with my wide eyes and slackened jaw, but I'm too preoccupied with the sway of her hips to be embarrassed about it.

A pair of high-heeled boots stop on the edge of the stage, just level with my nose. I regard them for a moment before traveling upward where a pair of leather garters attach themselves to a red and black, v-necked teddy. I unwittingly linger near the top for a moment before looking upon her face again. Her smile has widened considerably, blue-green eyes twinkling in delight at the fool I am making of myself.

"Like what you see?" she mouths, gripping the pole with both hands. Before I realize what is happening her legs are wrapped around it as well and her face is mere inches from mine as she effortlessly hangs upside down from it. To my further surprise, she moves her hands from the pole, instead gently resting them on either side of my neck as she whispers in my ear.

"You're about to like it a whole lot more."

Her hands grip the pole again, righting herself and swinging around the pole as her mouth moves in time with the music on the speakers.

_Sometimes I feel I've got to  
Run away  
I've got to  
Get away  
From the pain that you drive into the heart of me  
The love we share  
Seems to go nowhere  
And I've lost my lights  
For I toss and turn I can't sleep at night  
  
Once I ran to you (I ran)  
Now I'll run from you  
This tainted love you've given  
I give you all a boy could give you  
Take my tears and that's not nearly all  
Tainted love  
Tainted love___

She stalks around the pole slowly, her eyes locked with mine as she lip syncs with the music. Her hair falls over one side of her face as she tosses it to one side on a particularly strong beat. She then stands in front of it, gripping it with both hands high above her head as her hips sway in time with the music. I follow as one hand abandons the other to travel down the side of her face, pausing at her lips which continue to smirk mockingly down on me as I lick my own in silent reaction.

_Now I know I've got to  
Run away  
I've got to  
Get away  
You don't really want any more from me  
To make things right  
You need someone to hold you tight  
You think love is to pray  
But I'm sorry I don't pray that way  
  
Once I ran to you (I ran)  
Now I'll run from you  
This tainted love you've given  
I give you all a boy could give you  
Take my tears and that's not nearly all  
Tainted love  
Tainted love_

She mounts the pole again, swinging all the way around it once before repeating her first action and hanging upside down in front of me. This time however she chooses not to hover there, instead sliding all the way down to the floor with her legs still suggestively wrapped around the cold metal. She then reaches up to bury her hands in her hair writhing on the floor of the stage like a snake, as her eyes now staring up into mine. 

_Don't touch me please  
I cannot stand the way you tease  
I love you though you hurt me so  
Now I'm going to pack my things and go  
Touch me baby, tainted love  
Touch me baby, tainted love  
Touch me baby, tainted love_

She mouths the words suggestively, her legs sliding down to allow her to flip herself onto her knees. I begin to sweat as she slowly crawls toward me. When I think she's going to stop she approaches even further, until we're nose to nose. It suddenly becomes harder to breathe as she smiles and rises up on her knees in front of me, giving what must have been the very best view in all of Tokyo. She seems genuinely amused at the way I can't seem to tear my eyes away from her….assets. She swings her head again to get her hair out of the way, but as she does this a strand of it brushes against my cheek. My eyes slide closed of their own will, forcing me to savor the fleeting sensation.

_Once I ran to you (I ran)  
Now I'll run from you  
This tainted love you've given  
I give you all a boy could give you  
Take my tears and that's not nearly all  
Tainted love  
Tainted love  
Tainted love_

The last words of the song come out as a breath of warm air on my upturned face as she leans over, her sassy little mouth moving teasingly a mere few inches from mine. I barely hear it when the others holler their approval, littering the stage with whatever money they can find in their pockets. By the time Sanosuke claps me on the shoulder she's collected her tip and is now disappearing through the curtains again. Her hair has now been pulled over her shoulder, for the first time revealing a tattoo on her upper back. An angel's halo adorned with two tiny horns floats above a pair of cherubic wings while a forked tail curls lazily below them. Oni and tenshi in the same design. The image burns itself into my mind of its own will as the curtains swing back into place behind her.

Twenty-one is a birthday that I'll not soon forget.

******************************************************


	2. Sing it with me

Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter One- "Sing it with me"

_*******************************************_

_"You were only waiting for this moment to arise..."_

_The Beatles_

_********************************************_

"Happy Birthday!"

The heavily accented exclamation was followed by the lively chink of wine glasses all around the dinner table. Soujiro managed to smile nervously at both his guests and the other people at the restaurant who politely raised their own glasses in his direction as well. His mother, bless her over-enthusiastic soul, would probably never tire of showing her children off in public this way, no matter how old they got. Still, that did nothing to cool the heat he felt rising in his cheeks as she successfully made a spectacle of both him and herself with a birthday toast that would have put any professional actress to shame. 

He knew she meant well, really she did. He just wished that she didn't boast about him that way in front of everyone. Always going on about what a genius he was and how any woman should be proud to call him her son. No matter how humble or invisible he made himself to be, there she would be at the drop of a hat, pulling him into the limelight by his shirt-tails again.

Seeing his mortification his sister reached for his hand under the table and gave it an affectionate squeeze. He smiled back at her, returning the action. Brave, beautiful, refreshingly un-bourgeois Yumi. Where Soujiro was proclaimed to be his mother's crowning jewel, Yumi preferred herself to be a diamond that would always remain in the rough. When they had gone to high-school together, a friend had nervously joked that her entire English vocabulary consisted of two words, one of which was certainly not to be found in the dictionary.

Removing her hand from his, she picked up her wine glass again, "You know," she said softly, "I think that Mom missed her true calling in life."

"You mean the stage?" he grumbled into his own glass.

"Nope." The elder sibling quickly countered, "Organic Farming."

Soujiro blinked in surprise, "How'd you come up with that?" he asked.

"Because, silly," she said in a deceptively serious tone of voice, "She has the magical ability to produce bullshit on command." 

Soujiro snickered. Trust his big sister to turn even the most mortifying of moments into a joke. She had the ability to deliver the worst scorchers with a straight face and perfect timing. The only downside being that while she carried on as if she had nothing to do with it, Soujiro always ended up covering up his giggles with coughing fits. Tonight was no exception to the rule.

"Sou dear," his mother cooed as she lightly patted him on the back, "What's the matter? Did something go down the wrong way?"

Yumi opened her mouth again, but quickly shut it when her little brother shot a glare in her direction. She raised her wine glass again, this time to hide the grin of pure evil that crept across her pretty face.

"No mother," he replied for himself, "I'm fine."

Noriko frowned slightly, barely satisfied by her son's reassurances, "Hn," she hummed dubiously, "I should have followed my mind and gone with a more traditional restaurant, you've always been picky about western food." 

He blushed again, "No Mother, the food's fine. Really it is." To prove his point he began to push his meal around his plate, trying to pretend that he was interested in it. What she had said was only partway true, he happened to like western food, just not gourmet western food. Once when they were young Yumi had loudly announced that someone had put raw human brains on her plate and dressed it up with lettuce leaves to look like real food. Try as he might to erase the memory, the analogy had stuck with him into adulthood.

Bored with the idle chatter surrounding him, he allowed his mind to wander back to the previous night. When the party was over he didn't know whether to drag Sano off to the nearest temple for redemption, or kiss him on the lips. Images of blue-green eyes and shining blue-black hair had haunted his sleep to the point that he had woken up next to his bed that morning  rather than on top of it as he was accustomed to. He hoped that his childish fascination would pass with time but now he found himself thinking about it more today that he did the day before. For now he was just biding his time, trying his best not to notice that the wine in his glass was the same shade of red as the lipstick that got smeared on the collar of his shirt the night before.

Dimly aware of his surroundings, he noticed that his guests, or rather, his mother's friends, had hushed their socialite babbling and the lights in the dining area had suddenly gone dim. The lights at the front of the room brightened a bit, highlighting the live band that had been playing softly for the duration of their meal. An expectant murmur rippling through the crowd caused him to look up in time to see a lone singer approach a mike at the front. She wore simple clothing, a fitted, sleeveless, black dress that flowed around her ankles, her bare shoulders covered by a matching chiffon scarf and large silver earrings accented her pale heart-shaped face. Her dark hair had been neatly swept into a great coiled braid on top of her head, lending her the air of sophistication that set her apart from the other women in the room. She bowed slightly in response to the applause that greeted her entrance and then turned to the band leader who nodded in response as he began the intro to her song.

_Oboete'ru yo ano nukumori_

_Komorebi no yureru naka de_

_Aishiatta tooi hibi ga_

_Subete da to omoikonde'ta_

_Omoide ni dakarete ima wa, okubyou ni natte_

_itami sae kanjirarenai, ikikata erande'ru_

The singer had a pleasant voice, deeper and richer than what was expected from someone with such a petite frame. It was hard not enjoy the show, for although the words of the song were sad, something in that voice made that sadness beautiful, like sunlight reflected off of a teardrop.

_Tashikametai aisuru imi_

_Kagami ni utsushita sugao_

_Aojirokute tsukareta kao_

_Taekirezu kuchibeni nutta_

_Omoide ni dakarete ima wa mae ni susumenakute_

_Oikakete samayoi aruku ikikata yurusenai_

_Omoide ni dakarete ima wa okubyou ni natte_

_Itami sae kanjirarenai ikikata erande'ru_

Soujiro returned his attention to his wine-glass again, observing the way his reflection rippled on the alcohol's surface. He wondered what his friends were up to now, the lucky bastards. They probably went back to the bar for a repeat of last night's performance. Hell, he wished he were right back there with them.

"Alright Sou, cool it," he mentally chided himself, "This is bordering on obsession now."

_Nanimokamo sutete shimaeba_

_Atarashii jibun ni aeru ima sugu ni_

_Omoide ni dakarete ima wa okubyou ni natte_

_Itami sae kanjirarenai ikikata erande'ru_

_Omoide ni dakarete ima wa mae ni susumenakute_

_Oikakete samayoi aruku ikikata yurusenai_

The audience applauded loudly as the performance came to a close. The singer had the grace to blush slightly as she bowed toward them in acknowledgement before moving on to the next song. Recognizing the tune, Yumi reached for her brother's hand, dragging him out onto the dance floor.

"If you'll excuse us Mommy-dearest," she said with a bright smile in Noriko's direction, "My brother and I are going to shake what you so graciously gave us."

Noriko frowned in disapproval at her daughter's crude words, but Yumi brushed her hostility off with an easy smile as she linked her arm in Soujiro's. Soujiro himself offered his mother an apologetic shrug of his own, but it was only to appease her ego. 

"Thanks for pulling me out of there," he breathed in relief, "I thought I was actually going to go crazy this time."

Yumi shrugged as she moved her brother's hands to the correct positions for dancing, "There are enough crazy people in this family already, believe me," she jokingly replied. "But now we've gotten rid of the privileged set back there," she continued, throwing a fake accent into her voice, "How's about you and me cut a rug, babe?" 

Sou's response was to give his patented, "Oh, how I love my crazy big sister" grin and maneuver her to a less crowded area of the floor.

_Some day, when I'm awfully low,_

_When the world is cold,_

_I will feel a glow just thinking of you..._

_And the way you look tonight._

They kept the steps simple as they began, but gradually the space between them  gradually widened until the momentum of Yumi's turn was enough to raise the skirt of her red dress around her thighs. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the expression on her mother's face when she just came short of flashing her underwear and mockingly covered her mouth in feigned surprise never falling out of step with her brother for a single second as she carried on with her antics.

_Yes you're lovely, with your smile so warm_

_And your cheeks so soft,_

_There is nothing for me but to love you,_

_And the way you look tonight._

By the time the second verse was completed, Noriko's face had turned a lovely shade of red and she was now glaring openly at Yumi who continued to smile brightly over Soujiro's shoulder as they copied each-other's steps.

_With each word your tenderness grows,_

_Tearing my fear apart..._

_And that laugh that wrinkles your nose,_

_It touches my foolish heart._

_Lovely ... Never, ever change._

_Keep that breathless charm._

_Won't you please arrange it ?_

_'Cause I love you ... Just the way you look tonight._

Unbeknownst to them both, the singer's countenance had brightened considerably as she noticed the young couple on the dance floor. Without her willing it to be so, her voice grew even richer, loving the words of the song even as they left her mouth. Her smile brightened and her body began to sway with the music, moving in time with the two free spirits on the dance floor.

_And that laugh that wrinkles your nose,_

_It touches my foolish heart._

_Lovely ... Don't you ever change._

_Keep that breathless charm._

_Won't you please arrange it ?_

_'Cause I love you ... Just the way you look tonight_

Soujiro found that he could not hold back the carefree laughter that tugged at his throat when he saw Yumi blow an exaggerated kiss in their mother's direction as he dipped her toward the floor. Still chuckling, he pulled her upright again, only to allow her to pirouette away from him and be pulled back again. The other dancers instinctively pulled back, giving the two of them all the room that they wanted. Yumi was quick to make use of the new arrangement, executing more complicated turns and kicking her legs high up in the air as Sou lifted her up and spun her in wide circles around his body. Then, just as easily as they had begun, they wound the steps back down with the music, easily returning to the place where they began. 

_Mm, Mm, Mm, Mm,_

_Just the way you look to-night._

When the song ended, the audience was quick to applaud the dancing siblings. Some of the wilder ones went as far as throwing a few wolf-whistles in their direction. While Soujiro smiled politely and proceeded to blend with his surroundings again, Yumi reveled in the attention, waving and blowing kisses as if she were the queen of France.

Turning his eyes away from the crowd, Soujiro found himself looking right at the cabaret singer who was smiling directly at him as she brought her own hands together in applause. Shyly, he smiled back at her, instinctively bending slightly at the waist as he did. Her mouth opened wider in laughter and she turned to the band leader to say something. However, as she revealed her back to him, the chiffon scarf slipped slightly exposing her pale flesh to the light.

He blinked, then he rubbed his eyes. Nope. It was still there, glaring back at him like a beacon. She must have felt his stare on her skin because she turned to face him again, the color of her eyes being the first thing to catch his eye.

"Kami-sama…" he heard himself breathe.

***********************************************


	3. Snowbird

Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter Two- "Snowbird"

_*******************************************_

_"What have you done to me?"_

_-Anita Baker-_

_********************************************_

She took her time pacing around the silver pole in the middle of the room, several tendrils of her dark hair cascading around her face, swaying like curtains of silk before her well-shaped eyes with every step. Her tiny feet picked their way carefully across the slippery floor, her movements reminiscent of an egret on an icy pond in wintertime. Her bird-like countenance was further suggested by the short robe of white chiffon that floated down to her bare thighs, highlighting, rather than concealing, the teddy of ivory lace that clung to her every curve like a second skin. 

On any other dancer, the outfit would have seemed garish and out of place, but this little lady possessed skin the color of snow itself, so much so that it took a moment for the viewer to discern where bare flesh ended and whisper-thin fabric began. Only when her hips began to sway in time with the beat did the material float upward a little before slowly making it's way down again to brush her skin in a feathery caress. Flowing, teasing, again and again until it's undulating movements were enough to have any man in the crowd below her hypnotized by its grace.

"She's something else, isn't she?" a feminine voice murmured above the music.

The tall man at her side nodded in silent agreement, his intelligent black eyes focused not on the dancer, but the faces of the men who were under her spell. Their stunned expressions both intrigued and humored him to no end, a little more and he was sure that most of them would be literally drooling. Pity. He was probably the only one in the room who was completely immune to the dancers' charms. It just wasn't…his cup of tea.

"Hm…" he hummed noncommittally, "If you like that sort of thing, I suppose she's alright."

Misao grinned as she playfully punched the young bartender on the arm. She knew that Mashiro liked Yuki just as much as any other employee in the bar. It was impossible not to. For someone whose movements and physical appearance echoed that of a winter chill, ironically Yuki was the one who brought a constant ray of sunshine into the establishment. Within her she held a sort of childish innocence that threw someone off their guard long enough for her claim a little piece of their hearts for her own. Once, a rowdy newcomer had made the mistake of insulting her while on stage, narrowly missing her temple when he threw a beer bottle in her direction. Before Mashiro or any of the bouncers could lay a hand on the guy, a handful of regulars had picked him up by his collar and solemnly led him outside for an ass kicking that he would never forget. No one insulted _their_ "Oujo-sama" like that and got away with it.

Mashiro stopped polishing the tumbler in his hand, instead holding it up to examine the way it glinted in the artificial light. "So, Lady Jade," he murmured from behind a coy smile, "I heard you gave quite a private show the other night, yourself."

Misao's cheeks heated a little as she narrowed her eyes at her friend's use of her stage name, "Oh yeah?" she asked, her voice mildly defensive.

"Mmmhm…" Mashiro murmured again, never taking his eyes off the glass, "I must say though, it's been awhile since you've done that 'sliding down the pole backwards' trick. It must've been something special."

Misao snorted and tossed her head in mock-conceit, "Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't." she said haughtily. 

Mashiro cut his eyes at her for a second before bringing the glass down to its respective place on the bar. He had known Misao long enough to know that she'd tell him everything, whether she wanted to or not. As if to prove his point, the young woman sighed loudly, a definite prelude to a serious confession.

"I guess I wasn't feeling quite myself that night." she confessed, her pretty smile wavering a little under the weight of her words. "Besides…" she added quickly to save face, "The birthday boy was kinda cute, plus he was a total virgin. I couldn't tell if he was pleased or downright scared of me. It was way too easy not to play with his mind just a little bit."

Mashiro nodded slightly, raising one perfectly groomed eyebrow at his friend's words. "I see." he murmured.

On stage, Yuki took her final bow and began collecting the banknotes that had begun piling up on the floor from the moment she had taken her first step toward the limelight. Flashing a bright smile in the direction of her regular fan-section, she disappeared behind the curtains at the back. 

Seeing her leave, Misao took a deep breath. She had been doing this for quite a while now, but still she found that the first step toward the pole was always the hardest. Suppressing the involuntary butterflies in her stomach she flashed a confident smile to her friend behind the bar.

"Showtime." He prompted, never volunteering a trace of emotion as he reached behind the counter for another glass.

Slitting her eyes slightly in conspiratorial amusement, Misao pushed her hand against the bar, causing the stool she was sitting in to swivel in the direction of the crowd.

"Alright boys!" she boldly proclaimed, "Enough of that flowery stuff. How many of you are here for a _real_ show?"

A chorus of hoots and wolf-whistles erupted as she sauntered between the tables and up the steps that led to the main stage. She had been wearing a long overcoat over her costume as she sat with Mashiro at the bar. Now she slowly slipped it off her shoulders, tantalizing her audience even before the music had had a chance to begin. Casting the garment aside, she strode up to the pole, resting one hand on its smooth surface as one would caress the skin of a lover.

"Hit it." She murmured.

*************************************

A whole week flew by in a blur of board meetings and financial reports. Being one of the two heirs to his father's company, Soujiro had had no choice but to return to work the day after his revelation as if nothing had ever happened at all. Even so, the now-accustomed pressures of his work did little to tear his mind away from that moment where it remained like a butterfly hopelessly trapped in the web of time. For all that he was worth, financially and spiritually both, he could not retrieve that part of himself that chose to linger in that instant, happy to remain lost in the emerald depths of his unnamed lady's eyes. 

 Her name. What was he willing to give to know it? Twice he caught himself considering the option of hiring someone professional to find this precious bit of information and bring it back to him, like King Arthur waiting upon his throne to be presented with the Holy Grail. But no. He would not, could not bring himself to exercise his power in this way. In that moment of confusion her mask of confidence had momentarily slipped down, revealing to him an even younger woman that he would never have recognized had it not been for the paradoxical design etched into the flesh of her back. To pursue a creature of that much complexity and beauty with such underhanded, scheming ways would be like thrusting an arrow into the throat of a fawn. Besides, she did not even seem to recognize him as he stood, dumbfounded in the middle of the dancing dinner crowd. Why should she anyway? He was nothing to her, nothing at all.

_"And yet,"_ he silently mourned, _"She's taken over my mind."_

He had met girls before. Beautiful ones who were as rich and powerful as he, ambitious, controlling little minxes who calculated company profits in the back of their minds as they paraded themselves for his pleasure and (hopefully) his nuptial interest. There were nice ones too, just as attractive and truly willing to forge real relationships with him based on a love other than that of his parents' money. However, they too were crushed, this time not by their own greed, but by their inability to compete with the world he belonged to. They simply could not keep up with a world that demanded that they always had to be at their very best at all times. Love needs room to be imperfect and that kind of environment left it very little place in which to flourish. Under that pressure, normal, little fights that would have ultimately strengthened the bond between male and female became blown out of proportion, providing the perfect opportunity for these poor girls to turn tail and run for their sanity. That sort of reaction had left him exactly where he was, lonely and inexperienced, pining after a woman who had only looked upon him with desire because she had been paid to do so.

If his mother knew of what he was thinking at that moment, she would throw a fit unlike any other known to mankind and demand that he be irrevocably engaged to the first eligible young woman of his class that she laid eyes on. She would not understand what he felt. He had tried his best to love a girl like that, but none of them had had the fortitude to survive the life that was handcrafted for him since the day of his birth. Truth be told, there were days when even he doubted that he had what it took to go on living up to everyone else's expectations. It was for this reason he loved his only sibling so very much. Unlike himself, Yumi wanted no part of the praise of others. She did as she damned well liked whenever she felt like doing it and there would always be a perfectly manicured one-finger salute for anyone who cared to audibly disagree. 

Maybe he should ask her for some advice on this one. If there were anyone who would even remotely understand his new penchant for high society Russian roulette it would be her. And to besides, whom would it hurt? He certainly was not going to divulge any details on just who his "mystery lady" was and even if she did eventually find out (a certainty in itself) all he would suffer for it would be the arch of her eyebrows and whispered encouragements of "Way to go Sou-chan!"

A playful, sheathed attack on his ego would be more than a fair payment for the advice that only his big sister could give. She was, after all, a professional when it came to the thrill of the chase. 

A little silver cell phone briefly jangled out its rendition of Bonnie Pink's "It's Gonna Rain" from its corner on the large artist's desk in Yumi's brightly lit apartment before being picked up by a paint-speckled hand.

"Hai, moshi-moshi?" a distant, feminine voice breathed into the receiver.

"Hey, big sis."

"Ah!" Yumi exclaimed as her countenance instantly brightened, "What's up lil' bro?"

Soujiro's fingers instinctively curled toward the palm of his hand, "Nothing much," he lied, "Just holding up the fort until you decide to come back to us."

An audible snort echoed through the speaker as she raised her pencil again, "Not likely," she declared, "So, are you going to tell me what's really wrong with you or are we going to pussyfoot around it for a few moments more?"

Busted. He should have known better than to chicken out, it only raised her attention anyway. 

"Um…" he stalled, "You see, I have this…problem…"

"Uh-huh?"

"If there was say…someone that you don't know very well…but you would like to get to know…but you don't exactly come from the same background…"

"Holy shit," the brunette casually swore, "I do believe my little brothers in love with a commoner. How'd you manage that one?"

"Ah," he murmured, thankful that his sister could not see his blush, "Let's just say we met through a mutual friend."

"Well it's about time," Yumi declared, "I was thisclose to thinking that Mom had turned you into one of them after all. Good to see that my efforts weren't in vain."

Soujiro flushed even more deeply, "Are you going to help me or not?" he impatiently whined.

"Alright, alright, keep your pants on!" Yumi scolded him, "Well, since this girl doesn't know anything about the high life you're used to living, why don't you just ask her out? Have a drink or something, maybe sing a little karaoke. Anything but that fancy-schmansy stuff you did with the others. If you don't let her in on the whole picture gradually, she'll run like hell before she even gets a chance to know you. Not that anyone could blame her if she did."

"Hey!"

"Oh, you know what I mean," she said, "You're as adorable as can be, but let's face facts, the position you're forced to hold is more than a little intimidating. Just take her out and have some fun, treat her less like a lady and more like…an equal. Trust me, _real_ chicks love that."

"I guess I have no choice." he said resignedly.

"Hey, I'm your only sister, would I lead you astray?"

"Of course not…Thanks sis."

"Anytime. Talk back soon, ok?"

"Sure thing. Love you."

"Love you too, Little Bit."

Click!

For several moments afterward Soujiro stared at the phone in his hand, contemplating what his sister had said. After a while, he sighed and stood up, rolling his plush chair away from the heavy oak desk in his office. Looking down, he caught sight of himself on the surface of the highly polished wood. Every fold of his designer suit fell just where it was supposed to, lending him an air of importance and intimidation that worked well in the world of business, but this project certainly wasn't about business.

"Looks like I have some dressing down to do." he mused aloud.

*********************************************************


	4. Hard to Get

Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter Three- "Hard to Get"

_*******************************************_

_"What are you looking at?"_

_-Madonna-_

_********************************************_

_When we want to love, we love…_

_When we want to kiss, we kiss…_

_With a little petting…we're getting, some fun out of life._

The Russians claim Vodka to be a tasteless spirit, but even from the first wash of the deviously mild liquor over his tongue, Soujiro found that he could detect, if not by taste, then by instinct, the presence of the alcohol from behind it's strong, citrusy mask. It was probably in much the same way that he could sense some hidden quality about the woman that swayed on the stage in front of him. Being a Friday, the crowd was considerably less starched than the one that attended on the night of his birthday. This being so, "Lady Jade" as Sano had addressed her, took the opportunity to become more like what must have been herself. The sleek, black dress of the week before had been discarded in favor of a shorter, flouncier creation that closely matched the color of her eyes. Her hair wasn't drawn back as severely as before either, now a loose bun that allowed several tendrils of silken ebony to cascade down around her now smiling mouth.

_When we want to work, we work…_

_When we want to play, we play…_

_In a happy setting, we're getting, some fun out of life._

It excited him, this newfound playfulness. If she had tried to sing this particular song in the presence of his mother and her friends, they would have at the very least, turned up their noses on something even as mildly provocative as the words of Madame Peyroux. Points to the lady for knowing how to pick her audience on that. Even so, he could not help but see the aristocrats through the eyes of his sibling if even for just a moment. What a poverty it must be to have an entire redwood growing on the inside of your colon with all the tenacity of a hookworm. 

He laughed at himself for that last thought. His illicit affair with this questionable female was now, little more than a plan in his formidable little cranium and already he hated that set for the horrible things that they would have to say about it if they knew. Well…screw the bastards_. (Damn, that vodka really does kick, doesn't it?)_ It was about time that he was allowed to be something separate from their self-righteous, hypocritical mass of Prada and French cologne. 

He brought the glass firmly back down onto the bar, determined not to make an ass of himself by drunkenly spouting out loud all that had just transpired in the privacy of his mind. He wanted to be on his very best behavior when he "met" the lady.

_Maybe we do the right things…_

_Maybe we do the wrong_

_Spending each day_

_Just wending our way along_

_When we want to sing, we sing_

_ When we want to dance, we dance_

_ You can do your betting, we're getting_

_Some fun out of life_

Instinctively he smoothed the collar of his deep blue shirt. Yumi had bought it for him the birthday past, deliberately choosing the gift not for its cost or affiliations, but primarily for the reason that she found her younger sibling to be quite dashing in that particular shade of blue. He was thankful for its cottony simplicity, one could not be intimidating and cute at the same time and right now he'd much rather be cute. The end of this song would mark the beginning of a ten minute break for the singer, and if the easygoing bartender he spoke to earlier was to be believed, she'd walk directly off the stage to the far corner of the counter to order something with which to soothe the strain on her vocal cords before going back up to complete her set. It seemed all he could do in the end was wait, hope and worry.

_Maybe we do the right things_

_Maybe we do the wrong_

_Spending each day_

_Just wending our way along_

_But when we want to sing, we sing_

_ When we want to dance, we dance_

_You can do your betting, we're getting_

_Some fun out of life._

As the band's pianist brought the song to its jaunty end, the brunette on stage bowed to her audience. Then, sure enough, she made her way down the stage's steps and through the crowd even as they continued to reciprocate her graciousness and talent with an equally cordial round of applause.

Soujiro could feel the fine hairs on the back of his neck prickling as she drew closer to the place where he sat. The flared skirt of the dress she had chosen for the night played a tantalizing game of hide and seek with his slate colored eyes as she walked. Her hips shifted with every step that she made to pull the material left and right over the sheer shadows of her nylons. Soon, she drew near the counter and with no more disturbance than a bird landing on a sturdy branch, slid into one of the two available stools, absentmindedly crossing her legs at the ankles as she leaned on her elbows, muttering her preference in low, husky tones to the bartender on duty. 

"Arrigatou," he heard her murmur as the barkeep placed her drink of choice in front of her. A pale, pearl-pink mixture swirling in a fluted glass with one of those ridiculous straws with the miniature fans attached. She plucked the straw out immediately, briefly frowning at the bright red paper contraption attached to it before setting it on the counter beside her glass.

There was an empty stool between them, a clear indication that she wasn't really looking for company tonight. No matter. Even a small "hello" would have him swinging around lampposts all the way home. That was his goal after all, to get her attention and hope that he would be able to hold it for more than a millisecond. 

_"Alright. Here goes…" _

He raised his head in her direction; his most innocent and endearing smile firmly fixed onto his lips. His eyes slid almost all the way closed in an effort to seem as harmless as humanly possible as he turned to face her. He opened them quickly though, when a considerable mass placed itself between himself and the girl of his fantasies.

Misao's frown deepened although she didn't look up from the place where her finger traced the rim of her glass. The man who had settled in the seat next to hers was a good few inches above her head, and so could not see the distaste written there. Just as well. He didn't seem to be the sensitive type.

"Cute song you did there," he grunted.

No one would ever know the pure effort it took for Misao to keep her voice at a neutral level. She could feel his beady eyes traveling over her stockings with a sickening meticulousness that stole her patience more quickly than she could remind herself that she needed the cabaret job to make ends meet.

"Thank you," she said evenly. 

"Oh no, cupcake," his annoying greasiness said with a lecherous smile, "Believe me when I say…the pleasure's all mine."

_"Filthy, sweaty, disgusting pig."_ Misao rattled off in her mind as she slid her eyes to regard the man who was causing her so much discomfort. He was old, by her standards anyway, old enough to be her father and mournfully unattractive despite the expensiveness of his clothing. The once sharply ironed lapels now crumpled and disheveled and the pristine white collar of his undershirt stained black with sweat and grease around the rim. As attractive as the stinking cloud of alcohol hovering around him must have made her to his eyes, its effect was quite the opposite to hers. She desperately wanted to be as far away from this man as humanly possible.  

"Sou da ne," she said as pleasantly as she could, "If you'll excuse me, I must be going now…"

"Hey," the boar interjected before she could leave, "What's the rush?"

Then there it was. That unavoidable, unmistakable feeling of an unwanted weight settling on her knee made every other part of her body freeze in horror. Filthy, nasty, ugly, _despicable_ old man! She was going to punch him out, pour the rest of that whisky all over his face and then catch it on fire. Job or no job, she didn't have to take this from anyone. At least the men in the other bar knew their place and she would never have to worry about them trying to touch her. Screw this job. She wasn't going to let anyone get away with invading her personal space.

Then, just as she raised her hand to deal the deciding blow, a stronger hand, almost as small as her own caught her fist gently but firmly in its grasp. Angrily she turned to face this new irritation, but as her glittering emerald eyes found the face of the one who held her, she was surprised to see a face that smiled in a manner so pleasant that it might have been meant for a midday service at some small, country church. Add to the fact that the smile was not aimed at her, but the petulant individual who had placed his hand on her knee.

"Excuse us," the stranger said pleasantly, "We were just about to head off to the dance floor."

The expression in the man's sunken, beady eyes grew more sullen as he looked the newcomer up and down. "I don't think so," he growled, "The lady and I are still talking."

Soujiro turned his smile up to a full beam and opened his eyes at the mention of the "l" word. "That's right!" he agreed, "She is a lady. And being one, I'm pretty sure she doesn't approve of you touching her like that, sir. Now, if you'll excuse us…" he repeated, looking meaningfully toward Misao.

"Um…sure," she quickly agreed, eager to be saved from the lecherous freak. With one, crisp, neat movement, she brushed the offending hand off and allowed the stranger to steer her toward the crowd of dancers.

"Hey," the drunken man growled, placing the selfsame hand on Soujiro's shoulder, "This isn't any of your business insect, so just piss off."

There was a brief flash in Soujiro's eyes before that hand was caught just as easily as hers was. The brief flash of anger that crossed the bigger man's face was soon replaced by surprise and then, fear. The smaller hand closed around the other, fingertips digging into various points on its surface as the owner continued to smile benignly into the frightened man's eyes. Before long, a small whimper from the elder of the two accompanied a quiet but distinct crunching noise. 

All traces of drunkenness gone, the elder man watched in horror as the younger released his hand, its thumb now bent at an awkward angle. A final smile in his direction, and the young man placed his own hand on the small of the young lady's back, to help hasten their retreat to the dancing area.

Misao, oblivious to what had happened in the brief three seconds it took to turn her back toward the bar, allowed herself to be gently led into the thick of the dancing crowd.

The band had struck up a light, waltz type tune without her voice to guide them in any other direction and they wended their way easily among the gentle sway of the other couples. Once they were properly hidden among the dancers, Misao turned to face her savior.

"Um…thanks," she said lamely, unwilling to risk wasting her enthusiasm on another jerk,  "That was very kind of you." 

Soujiro's smile had long lost its icy edge and now that she was there, in his presence, the queasy uneasiness of self-doubt began to eat at him afresh.

"It was nothing," he blurted out quickly in a voice that was squeakier than he would have liked, "I mean…someone as pretty as you shouldn't have to put up with that."

_"Smooth Casanova,"_ his mind offered dryly, _"She barely even knows you're interested."_

Not the type of person to blush at every cheesy compliment she received, Misao instead offered her deliverer a patient smile, quickly deciding that he wasn't a jerk after all. Just corny. He must have realized it too, his face turning a color that spelled mortification as he tittered nervously to fill the silence between them. Seeing it, her eyes narrowed slightly, her brow furrowing in concentration as she seemed to remember something.

"Wait a minute…" she said thoughtfully, "You're…oof!"

The force of a dancing couple bumping into her turned back sent her sprawling. Her arms grabbed wildly to find something with which to break her fall, finally finding nothing other than the shoulder of the one who saved her the trouble of a nightclub brawl. 

Instinctively, Soujiro placed her hands around her waist, easily supporting her weight so that she could find her own feet again. Now, being in the line of work that she was, the one thing that Misao was not accustomed to, was chivalry and two doses of the same in the same night was almost more than she could take. 

Embarrassed by her own clumsiness, she cleared her throat as she steadied herself on her own two feet again. "It seems if we want to stay here we'll have to keep in step, won't we?" she said matter-of-factly.

For a moment Soujiro caught himself blinking as stupidly as a steer facing the farmer's mallet before he found himself following the gentle sway of her hips with the shifting of his own. Before he became consciously aware of what he was doing he was leading their steps, her own dainty stilettos easily following his pace.

"I thought I recognized you," she said with a genuine smile, "You and your girlfriend put on quite a show the other night."

"Girlfriend?" he repeated dubiously before catching on, "Oh, you must mean Yumi. Thanks for the compliment, but she's my sister, not my girlfriend."

Misao raised her eyebrows in a manner that was as flippant as it was apologetic. "Whoops," she softly said, "My mistake."

They continued to sway in silence for a few moments more before the song began to wind down and she pulled away.

"I've got to get back to work," she said apologetically, "But thanks for the dance…" she trailed off, leaving him room to insert the desired information.

"Soujiro," he said, "Seta Soujiro."

"Soujiro," she repeated with satisfaction before turning around, "It suits you. Well…see you around Soujiro."

"Wait!"

She paused and turned toward him again, her face a picture of patience.

"Um…I was just wondering, that is I…" he wavered as he fumbled around in his pockets. Eventually he produced a paper napkin from the bar and a ballpoint pen, scribbling hastily upon it before offering the first item to her.

"You don't have to call if you don't want to," he said in a manner usually reserved for shy, thirteen year old boys, "But before that loser started on your case, I was actually wondering if I could get you to go out for coffee or something sometime."

Misao clutched the napkin in her left hand, close to her chest. Several calculations seemed to run their speedy course in the back of her mind before she finally smiled at him again.

"I'll think about it," she promised.

He smiled back, his heart sinking inside at the piecrust fragility of her answer. Still, he continued to at least appear to be brave as his hopes fell down all around his ears.

"Alright then," he said, "Bye…um…"

"Misao," she answered simply.

_"Pretty name,"_ he found himself thinking as she mounted the stairs of the stage again. 

**********************************************

Song Used:

Some Fun out of Life- Madeline Peyroux.

Author's Ramble:

There you go, seven whole pages. Savor them as you would a fine wine. As for actual notes and explanations, those of you who've never had the displeasure of witnessing it, cattle are killed for beef on small farms by first whacking them on the head with a sledgehammer to floor them and then when they are incapacitated, their throats are slit. The poor bastards do look horribly confused before the deed is done so that should give you an idea of how silly Sou looks at the moment that I compare him to a steer. The other explanation I should give is that Misao is downing that mysterious drink known as a "Pink Pussy" near the middle of the chapter. I have no idea what is in that drink, since my last enquiry of "I wonder what goes into a pink pussy?" was met with more hysterical laughter than actual explanation. That's the last time I ponder the meaning of life out loud, let me tell you.   

So, if you don't mind you can leave a review on the chapter/story…..or, you could just flame me for being boring. Your choice. (shrugs)


	5. Probabilities

Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter Four-

"Probabilities"

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_"Come back away…"_

_-Jude-_

_********************************************_

_ Arararararara aira rararara rarara...      _

_Három mér, piros szalag,_

_ Ej de nem ér..._

_Arararararara aira rararara rarara...      _

Half whispered, half sung, the words of Yuki's song left her mouth in a visible puff of moist air before becoming condensed on the cold glass of Misao's passenger-side window. Misao herself kept her eyes trained on the darkened road as she drove them both home, loath to tear her gaze away from the murkiness for even a second lest they both become nothing more than a pair of statistics on the front page of tomorrow's paper. 

The night had been good to them. The bar had had an influx of new customers who were thankfully as coherent to the rules as they were generous. Together, they had come away with more than three times their regular tip money in just that one night. A very good haul indeed. 

_Istenem, istenem_

_Vajon mi lelt engem?  _

_Három mér,  piros szalag_

_ Ej de nem ér körül engem…_

Yuki pulled her jacket more tightly around her body and yawned. Her rain-speckled reflection on the dark glass copied her, squinting its pretty, almond-shaped eyes and opening it's mouth to reveal its pinkish insides and sharp little teeth as a soft, animalistic sound escaped it. She blinked at herself a couple of times in sleepy curiosity before nuzzling deeper into the faux fur collar that surrounded her pale face. 

Still not sparing even a small glance at her friend, Misao instead smiled at the wet road, even as it conspired to send her skidding to her death. Somehow, Yuki had braved the strong currents of time, managing to hold on to many of her more endearing childhood habits as she grew into the beauty that she was. It was refreshing, to see something as innocent as a sleepy yawn and stretch from someone who had spent the earlier part of the evening dancing for the pleasure of strange men.  

_Istenem, istenem _

_Vajon mi lelt engem? _

_Nekem is van egy bánat _

_Vajon mi lelt? _

_Három mér…Három mér…_

_Arararararara aira rararara rarara...      _

An oncoming car with its fog lights up to full beam forced her to squint as her sensitive retinas screamed with protesting pain. Stupid fuckers with their stupid toys. All they needed was for a little rain to fall down and suddenly they couldn't see three inches in front of their nose. Her own vision began to blur as her eyes watered in an effort to soothe themselves after their optical onslaught. Her right hand gripped the wheel more firmly and she fumbled around in her pocket for something with which to dry them. Her probing fingers were soon rewarded by the soft, smooth feel of a paper tissue buried under some loose change and a long-forgotten tube of cheap lipstick. Hurriedly she pulled it out, sending the tube rolling out of her pocket and under her car seat where it would soon be forgotten again. She quickly dabbed the moisture away before gripping the wheel in both hands again, the handy little tissue now trapped between the flesh of her palm and the smooth, black plastic, one corner of it sticking out from between the two. 

_"Ararara…" _Yuki's singing faded off into silence as her dark eyes caught sight of the napkin in Misao's hand. She narrowed them in curiosity and leaned her head slightly to the side like a little white cockatoo, her lips moving silently as she were reading something.

"What's that?" she asked.

Misao's eyes remained on the road, "What's what?" she asked in return.

"That," said Yuki, pointing an acrylic nail in her friend's direction, "In your hand."

"It's a tissue, Yuki."

Yuki frowned as she and her patience suffered in silence. "I mean what is that written on the tissue, Misao." 

Only then did Misao spare a glance to the object in her hand. Sure enough, a set of figures in bright blue ink glared back at her from the otherwise flawless white paper surface. "Um…" she fumbled, as she briefly flirted with the idea of lying.

"Um _what_?" Yuki impatiently enquired.

"Its just some guy's phone number, that's all." 

Yuki's eyes widened to twice their normal size, "Is _that_ so?!" she exclaimed, "Who is he?"

"Just some guy," Misao insisted, still not looking in her direction, "Its no one special."

Yuki squirmed so that she was now turned all the way around to face the driver's side, "Oh, the hell it isn't!" she loudly disagreed.

"Please Yuki, I'm trying to drive here."

"Then tell me how that napkin ended up in your pocket."

Misao gave a long, suffering sigh. "Fine," she said, "But only if you sit down and behave."

"Deal!" Yuki quickly agreed, righting herself in the seat, "Now _spill_." 

"Well," the green-eyed dancer carefully began, "I was singing at the restaurant…"

***********************************************

Although the walls had been dry for days, the smell of fresh paint still lingered in the hallways of the apartment building that the two women proudly called home. Quietly, they made their way up the stairs to the third floor where the door to apartment 304 already stood open, a kindly old woman standing in its way as she smiled at the two girls coming down the hall.

"Konbanwa, Misao-chan, Yuki-chan," she said, "I got a little worried when the rain came down, I hope you didn't have any trouble on the road."

Yuki kissed the old woman on the cheek, "Iie Obaasan," she assured her, "Misao never took her eyes off of it, so we were okay."

Misao stepped up to the old woman and did the same as her friend, "I'm sorry that we're late Sakamoto-san," she apologized, "I drove slower than usual because the road was so slippery."

Linna Sakamoto chuckled lightly at the young woman's earnestness, "Ah, my Misao," she said, "Only you would apologize for doing the right thing."

Misao flushed slightly but her smile grew a little wider. "Is she…?" she asked, peering into the apartment's doorway. 

"Out like a light," Sakamoto reported with a wider grin, "She was determined to stay awake until you came home, but the Sandman's spell was just too much for her, I'm afraid." With that, she stepped aside, waving both girls indoors.  

Misao loosened the buckles that held her jacket closed as she stepped into the apartment's cozy warmth. The sharp, sweet smell of cinnamon and ginger flirted with her sensitive nose, diverting her attention to a half-eaten plate of homemade gingersnaps that stood on the coffee table in the corner by the TV. 

Carefully slipping off her sneakers, she silently made her way across the carpet to the couch. The flickering light from the television screen glowed blue and white off of the bundle of sheets deeply nestled in its seat. 

She could feel the beginnings of "the smile" creeping across her face. How does that Weezer song go again? _"I want a girl that smiles for no one else_…" The singer really understood how good it feels to have someone smile at you in that way. No. Not "good". There isn't a word in the world that can describe that feeling of being filled to overflowing, your heart literally bursting at the seams and your entire body screaming just to embrace the one who had smiled on you. But in this case, the smile's recipient was still too young to view love as a luxury. To her it was in the warmth of her blankets, the touch of the people who cared for her, the meals they prepared for her benefit. To her it was life itself. It was…it was…

"…kaachan…"

Misao bent and kissed the smooth little forehead that peeked out from beneath the blankets before she swept the entire bundle into her strong, capable hands. "That's right, beautiful," she whispered, "Mommy's here."

Yuki padded in behind her on stocking feet, grabbing one of the cookies off of the plate in a smooth, practiced motion before peering at the object nestled in Misao's arms. 

"Hey there precious," she whispered affectionately, "Did you miss us?"

A pouty yawn rose up from the blankets along with a few incoherent endearments. Yuki smiled and took a bite out of her cookie as she followed her friend out the front door.

"I'll be back in a minute, Grandma!" she called over her shoulder.   

 Misao crossed the hall and fumbled briefly in her pockets before fishing out an apartment key with a "Haibane Renmei" key chain dangling from it. Deftly, she inserted it into the lock of the apartment across the hall from the Sakamotos, pushing the door inward and brushing her wrist against the light switch on the inner wall.

Without sparing a glance backward, she headed straight for the bedrooms. She knew that Yuki was right behind her and would shut the door on her way in. Gently, carefully, she lay her daughter down on the little bed that she had only been able to buy for her because of her job as an exotic dancer. Kissing her again, she switched on the swan-shaped night-light on the wall and tiptoed quietly from the room.

Shutting the door quietly behind her, she turned toward the living area, instead finding herself nose to nose with her best friend. Yuki's dark eyes peered accusingly up into her own and an expression caught between a playful pout and a frown wrestled its way across her pale lips.

"Well?" she impatiently asked.

"Um…" Misao found herself saying for the second time that night.

"The phone number Misao," Yuki said patiently and quietly, lest she wake up the baby, "When are you going to use it?"

Misao bit back a squeal that would have certainly interfered with her daughter's slumber, "Use it?" she coughed as quietly as she could, "Yuki, have you finally lost your _mind_?"

Pulling away slightly, Yuki gave her tongue a soft but audible click. "Misao, Misao, Misao…" she sighed, "Your biggest problem is that you let your mind do all the thinking for the rest of you." On the last three words, she took a lingering and meaningful glance toward Misao's lower half.

Misao's ocean-colored eyes widened to the diameter of dinner-plates as her jaw hung silent and slack. She managed to make a few weak choking noises, but nothing strong enough to wipe the smug look off of Yuki's face as she boldly reached into her friend's jacket pocket and waved the fancy, printed, paper napkin that she found in front of her catatonic countenance.

"Oh come on!" she continued in an exaggerated whisper, "From what you told me, prince _bloody_ charming came to your rescue last night and without a thought to his own discomfort, let you mosey off into the sunset with nothing more than a cell phone number and your own free will. Now that, my dear Misao, is boinking material if I ever…"

Tearing her hands away from her burning face, Misao grabbed her friend by the shoulders and crisply steered her toward the door. "That's quite enough for one night, Yuki and you're obviously exhausted to be spouting off such nonsense."

Yuki pouted and cut her friend a look over her shoulder, "Hey," she said, "God provided the pony, I'm just reminding you to ri…"

"_Goodnight_ Yuki!" came Misao's harried whisper as she shut the door.

Still, on the other side of the wall she could hear her relentless little friend whistling the "Lone Ranger" theme.

Thoroughly flustered, Misao dragged her feet back into the living room and flopped down on the couch. As she did, the tissue that Yuki had dropped on her way out blew off of the cushion next to her and onto her lap. She briefly glared at it as if all the lewd suggestions had come from it and not her perverted friend. She picked it up turned it over in her fingers as if thinking before getting up and making her way into the kitchen. She stepped on the little lever that opened the lid of the plastic bin by the fridge and let it dangle perilously from her hand for a moment more.

After a while she sighed, her loudest for the night by far and let the lid drop. She stuffed the tissue deep in her jacket pocket again before hanging it up and heading off to bed. Hoping, all the while, that things would be clearer in the morning.

*********************************

Author's Ramble:

I was surprised that even up till now, no one has contradicted me on the idea that in this fic, Misao has finally "blossomed". I mean, let's face facts, she was pretty meatless in the manga and anime. So now you know the reason why this version of Misao has filled out a bit.

The song featured in this chapter is "Marta's Song" off of Deep Forest's "Boheme" album. It's English translation goes something like this;

_            Three units of red ribbon_

_             does not fit_

_            Oh my God, oh my God _

_            What has happened to me? _

_            Three units of red ribbon_

_            does not fit around me!_

_            What has happened to me? _

_            I have a sorrow too... _

_            What happened to me? _

_            Three units, three units_

Ok, so that didn't make much sense. Basically, the song is about change and how scary it can be when no one has prepared you for it. I'm sure you can see how _that_ relates to the chapter.   

And so, till the next time I'm feeling ambitious enough to update…

Flame away.

_P.S- Haibane Renmei rocks, but I don't own that either._


	6. The Angle of Reflection

Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter Five-

"The Angle of Reflection"

_*******************************************_

_"When it's time to leave I'll be happy to go,_

_You're just somebody that I used to know…"_

_-Elliot Smith-_

_********************************************_

I can hear them all around me; their excitement fills the air with the wordless, electric hum of a hive that senses the beekeeper's passing. The smoky special effect created especially for the occasion by my more scientific peers rolls slowly across the floor of the gym as the overhead lights dim and the spotlight that is to follow me around the floor slowly brightens.

I throw my head back and close my eyes, stealing a few deep breaths to fortify me, to help guide me through my trail by ribbon and fire. This is my moment, probably the only moment in which I will be able to prove my real worth. 

The music begins.

How they chant and scream as I step out into the spotlight. The hypocrites. I suppose I am no better than they, my smile is almost genuine as I bow toward the stands, anyone would think I was out here having the time of my life. If only the fools knew what it took for me just to get out of bed this morning.

The music started slow, but as I take my position at the stage's center I can hear its pace quicken, my signal to move. Gracefully, carefully, I raise my hands above my head, beaming at the crowd, the large, pink bow on my costume spreading itself out like a butterfly's wings as I do. Tonight, I will give them what they want of me. Tonight, it is my turn to shine.

_Baby you're all that I want  
When you're lying here in my arms  
I'm finding it hard to believe  
We're in heaven  
  
_

_And love is all that I need  
And I found it there in your heart  
It isn't too hard to see  
We're In Heaven_

My body moves faster than I thought it would, running only on the pure diligence of practices past. My braid whirls around my body in a circle, weighted by the metal clasp I've fixed at the end of it.

_Oh thinking about our younger years  
There was only you and me  
We were young and wild and free  
Now nothing can take you away from me  
We've been down that road before  
But that's over now  
You keep me coming back for more_

I sing along in my head as prance and pirouette around the floor, the new applicability of the lyrics failing to escape me even as I risk everything on the school's government-issue padding. The other gymnasts were too scared to move away from he norm, dancing instead to the more pre-approved music of Beethoven and Mozart. I would have been tempted to do the same, to guarantee my points rather than follow my mind, but one is so much more reckless and creative when they stand to lose what little that they have.

_Baby you're all that I want  
When you're lying here in my arms  
I'm finding it hard to believe  
We're in heaven  
  
_

_And love is all that I need  
And I found it there in your heart  
It isn't too hard to see  
We're In Heaven_

_We're in Heaven_

_Now nothing can change what you mean to me  
There's a lot that I can say  
But just hold me now  
Because our love will light the way_

Someone in the stands has started a chant. A shortened version of my name that is meant as both an encouragement and an endearment. Glancing to the front seats in mid back flip I can see my classmates cheering in support. The sight is so sickening to me, that for a moment I almost forget to smile. None of them ever want much to do with me unless they can get something out of it. In all my years of high school I was never once invited to someone's home for even as much as a sleepover. That's why I accepted the half-assed party invitation I was given a few weeks ago. I was just so flattered that someone actually thought that my company was good for something other than tutoring or gymnastic competitions. 

I was so foolish.

I flip backward twice on my hands, using the momentum to propel myself backward a third time, this time without the help of my arms. As my feet land on the mat under me, the ribbon that was previously secured in the band around my waist now lies, unraveled in my hands as if it had always been there. It's just a cheap, magician's trick of speed and misdirection, but the crowd loves it.

Deftly, I snap my wrist to get the ribbon moving at the end of it's stick, pirouetting like the paper ballerina in the Tin Soldier story as I surround my body with swirls of powder-blue.

_Baby you're all that I want  
When you're lying here in my arms  
I'm finding it hard to believe  
We're in heaven  
  
_

_And love is all that I need  
And I found it there in your heart  
It isn't too hard to see  
We're In Heaven_

Shifting from one foot to the other I use the centrifugal force my body has created to move myself and the still dancing ribbon to the front of the stage again.

_Now our dreams are coming true  
through the good times and the bad  
I'll be standing there by you._

Faster and faster I move, delighting in the way that smiling faces and clapping hands blur themselves into a meaningless swirl of color as I spin out of control. Concentrating only on keeping the ribbon aloft, I throw it into the air, executing even more complicated floor-turns before catching hold of it again as it descends.

_  
Love is all that I need  
And I find it there in your heart_

_It isn't too hard to see  
We're in heaven  
  
We're in heaven._

Triumphantly, I raise my arms again as the music comes to an end, lingering in the spotlight for a moment as I acknowledge their praises with a smile.

No one sees as my hands come down to rest lightly on my belly as the light goes out. As humbly and quietly as a mouse, I scurry back to the empty locker room to change, simultaneously counting the days till graduation and praying to whatever god that is listening that I would not begin to show at least until the end of July. 

****************************************

Misao twirled the end of the ribbon around her fingers as she recalled the memory of that night. She had been so scared for both herself and for Keiko, entering that dangerous competition even when her instincts told her to stay away. It wasn't as if she had a choice anyway, if she had suddenly pulled out like she had been tempted to do, suspicions would have been raised and she would have been found out for sure. The path she had chosen was a precarious one, but in the end it proved to be the right one for them both. If the authorities had gotten wind of a pregnant seventeen year-old, they would have done more harm than good to both herself and her child. No, this way was better, infinitely better.

She was so wrapped up in the past, that she didn't see Yuki approach the couch where she sat, Keiko's chubby hand in hers as she walked beside in her bouncy three-year-old's gait. 

"Misao?"

The gentle, icy tinkle of Yuki's voice served well not to startle the other woman too badly. "Yuki, Kei," she said as she shifted in her seat, "I didn't hear you two come in."

Scrambling up on the couch on all fours like a little mountain goat, Keiko pulled herself onto the cushions and nestled herself in the curve of her mother's waist as her intelligent little eyes peered into the box that rested on Misao's knees.

"Mommy took down her shoebox," she quietly reported to herself.

Misao's right hand descended onto her daughter's hair; gently stroking it's short waves in a motion that was probably more soothing to her than the child at her side. Nothing in the world could ever make her regret the decision that she had made that day. No matter the circumstances of her daughter's conception, the little person snuggled against her side proved a blessing and not a burden as the idiots in social services would have certainly made her out to be. 

Yuki reached for the box in her best friend's lap turning over its contents with her quick, clever fingers. "There sure are a lot of memories in here," she observed. Picking up a medal with a picture of a girl clasping her ankle above her head, she brought it closer to her eyes so she could read the engraving on the back.

"Awarded to Misao Makimachi, voted best female athlete of the year 2000," she read aloud. Below the engraving was the school's insignia and the date the medal was given to Misao. A symbol of achievement like that should not be kept hidden in a dusty old box and Yuki knew it, yet she never dared to tell her friend so. Misao had no family besides the three of them, no mother and father to enshrine her medals and trophies where they could happily show off what a clever daughter they had. Besides, from what she knew of Misao's time in high school, she could understand the need to hide even the happy memories away.

Misao offered Yuki a wan smile as she read the engraving, "Yup, that's me," she laughed bitterly, "Misao the flat-chested tomboy turned nighttime entertainer."

Yuki frowned in distaste at the self-depreciation in Misao's tone. Sure, they might not have the most respectable jobs in the world, but they got by just fine. Misao herself should have been especially proud of what she was able to achieve in the past three years. Not only had her quick thinking saved her daughter from a life in the system that she herself had been through, but on top of that she was raising Keiko better than she would have been raised in the presence of two parents.

Determined to lighten the mood, Yuki reached out a hand toward her friend, "You mean incredibly talented athlete turned sex-goddess," she corrected as she gave Misao's front a firm pat, "I still can't believe that you used to be jealous of me!"

Misao chuckled, glancing down at her bustline. "God bless them hormones," she joked back. 

Keiko looked on with curiosity as Misao's loosely bound breast jiggled under Yuki's touch. She had absolutely no idea what her 'auntie' had meant by a "sesuru-gurduss." As far as she was concerned, her Mommy's 'chests' had been put there to be her own personal, portable pillows. Wherever Mommy was, there was a decent place to curl up for a nap.

"Hey, Misao?"

"Yeah Yuki?"

The snow-colored woman pursed her lips together as if searching for the right words to put with the thoughts on her mind. In the end the strongest of these thoughts won out causing her to blurt it out in a most ill conceived way.

"I worry about you Misao."

A picture of patience, Misao slowly raised an eyebrow. A silent invitation on her part to continue.

A faint sprinkle of pink dusted Yuki's nose and cheeks, "I mean, I know you're on this crusade to avoid the majority of the human race until Kei's eighteen and all," she began, "But you never socialize, not even a little bit and that's just not healthy."

The eyebrow slowly came down again, "This is about that stupid phone number isn't it?"

Yuki pushed her bottom lip out slightly in childish defiance, "In a way, yes it is!' she admitted, "But the fact is this, you're becoming bitter Misao."

"Bitter?" Misao repeated dubiously, "I am not bitter Yuki, and I socialize just fine, thank _yew_."

"Chatting it up in the bar with Mashiro and the rest of us is not socializing, Misao." Yuki superiorly reported, her voice changing to a sound that was closer to a whining puppy with her next words.

"C'mon Misao," she pleaded, "You really should go out more and I've a good feeling about phone-number guy. I know you do too, I saw you staring at the napkin again backstage."

It was now Misao's turn to blush. She should have known that someone would have seen her staring down the napkin between acts. Embarrassment at being caught boiling inside of her, she kept silent as Yuki continued, contented that she had achieved the upper hand.

"Call him Misao," she insisted, rising from her place to bend over the little girl who had fallen asleep against her mother's breast. Gathering her little 'niece' in her arms, she addressed the still-seated Misao gently and authoratively.

"We love you, Misao," she declared, "But we're tired of seeing you all alone. Try this guy out, if he sucks, I'm sure you'll have no problem kicking him to the curb…_literally_." she added with a chuckle and a wink before heading off to put Keiko down.

Misao watched as her friend left with her daughter held safely in her arms. When they were gone her eyes automatically fell on the phone on the table in front of her. At first, she folded her arms tightly in defiance and looked away, but little by little her posture relaxed itself and her attention fell to the phone again.

"Oh..._Hell_." she softly swore.

**************************************

In the next room, Yuki had finished loosening Keiko's clothing and tucked her comfortably into her little bed. Smiling, she bent down and planted a gentle kiss on the tot's forehead before turning to leave.

"Hello? Is this…Soujiro?"

The sound of Misao's voice, made her stop just beyond the half-open door of the bedroom. Peering through the crack, she could see Misao from behind as she perched on the couch with the phone in her lap, the fingers of her free hand tangling themselves tightly in the white cord out of nervousness as she spoke.

"Yeah it's me," Misao continued with a nervous chuckle, "Uhm…I was wondering if…if you're invitation for coffee still stands? Yeah, I'd like that. Friday's fine. Five o' clock? Great. See you there. Sayonara."

As soon as the receiver clicked into its place Misao let out a sigh that seemed to deflate her entire body. Quietly, Yuki stepped out of her hiding place and wrapped her arms around her friend in joy.

"You did it!" she exclaimed in an excited whisper.

"Yeah, I did." Misao said, somewhat bewildered at her own bravery, "Yuki?"

"Yeah?"

"He had better be a nice guy, or I'm going to have to kill you." Misao said ominously.

"Of course he is!" Yuki said confidently, "If you look at it in a romantic way, he's already proven himself to be your Prince Charming, saving you from the ogre and all."

Misao gave her friend a deadpan look, followed by a halting smile.

"Don't ever grow up, Yuki." she said.

**********************************

Song: HEAVEN- DJ Sammy (waves glowsticks)

Author's notes:

I'm so sleepy right now it's just not funny. Even so, I apologize for not writing this chapter sooner, I really have no excuse for my laziness. Mm…laziness. 

Told you I was sleepy ^_^.

G'night.


	7. Something Sweet

Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter Six-

"Something Sweet"

_*******************************************_

_"Tell me you feel just like I do."_

_-Better Than Ezra-_

_********************************************_

"This one?"

"No."

"How about this?"

"No way."

"This one?"

"Sure, if you're in a convent ."

Misao snorted in frustration and tossed the t-shirt she was holding onto her bed before turning on her critic with a frustrated glare. "Yuki!" she hollered, "I'm nervous enough as it is so just agree with me on something before I go nuts!"

Unruffled by her friends admonition, Yuki simply reached out to straighten Misao's black lace bra with a look of patience to rival Buddha himself. "Maa, maa…" she soothingly reassured her, "Don't you want to look nice for Mr. Personal Savior-Man?" 

Misao instantly felt the temperature in her cheeks rise, "His name is Soujiro Seta for your information, Miss Priss." she corrected.

"Soujiro, huh?" Yuki repeated as she walked over to the wardrobe herself, "That's cool, makes calling out his name that much easier y'know? It kinda blends in like, Soujir-Oh! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

That earned her a direct hit to the face with Misao's pillow. Not that she cared. She was too busy cracking up at the look on her friend's face to be concerned with the possibility of a concussion.

Misao on the other hand, was absolutely mortified…and how.

"Hey, none of that, " Yuki commanded, pulling Misao's hands away from her face and depositing a black baby tee into them. "You had better hurry up before lover boy gets bored and decides that you stood him up."

Curious, Misao glanced down at her watch. "Oh _shit_!" she cried, "I'm gonna be late!" Hastily she pulled the shirt onto her shoulders and grabbed her purse off of her dressing-table before making a bee-line for the door.

Yuki smiled as she saw her off. "Ganbatte Misao," she said to herself, "Let that sucker know what he's been missing!"

***************************************

Yumi proved that melodrama ran in the family when she heard that "mystery-girl" had called her brother back for a coffee-date. Soujiro himself was made eternally grateful for the fact that he had been excited enough to drive all the way downtown to Yumi's apartment building i.e. a relatively non-public place.

For overreact she did.

"Hallelujah!" she'd sang, "Sou has finally found himself a real woman. Praise God Almighty, he's free at last!" 

Soujiro opted to quietly sweat drop in the corner while his older sister carried on for the better part of fifteen minutes.

Nor was he the least bit surprised when she showed up at his office with a zippered dress-bag in hand exactly an hour before the said date was to occur. Without the least bit of ceremony, she promptly booted out the one unfortunate board-member that had chosen to bother her little brother at such an inopportune time.

"And stay out, you fashion-victim!" she called out behind the poor man before slamming the door shut.

Embarrassed as he was by her methods, Soujiro was again grateful for his sister's presence. Trust those cooperate numb-nuts to try and rope him into a three-hour meeting when he finally had won his chance with the woman of his dreams. Yumi's assertiveness had once again saved him from being walked all over…again.

Turning from the closed door, Yumi faced her brother with a predatory look that almost made him rethink his gratitude. "Tsk, tsk," she clicked in dismay, "You weren't going to meet Ms. Wonderful in _that_, were you?"

Soujiro looked down on his suit in confusion, "What's wrong with this?" he asked, "At least it isn't as expensive as the others. Besides, I told her I was coming straight from work and these are work-clothes!"

Yumi looked him over with a gaze that was equal parts patience and affection, "Yeah, if you're a pimp," she said flatly, "I warned you before about chasing this one away with too much bling. Do you want to have her staring at your expensive suit all afternoon, wondering how in the hell you got it? Or do you want to have a good time?"

Soujiro promptly hung his head, "I want to have a good time," he mumbled.

"Then come here and let Yumi do her magic." She said, waving the bag she'd brought with her.

*************************************

Soujiro had to admit, his sister did have the magic touch. Such was evident in the flirtatious manner the waitress had approached him with the premature offer of a cappuccino and the approving glances of most of the female (and some of the male) customers in the shop. Self-consciously, he bit the corner of his bottom lip as he fiddled with the sleeve of the white polo his sister had bought him. Continuously looking up when the bell above the coffee-shop's door jingled in announcement of every new customer that came in.

Soon deciding that he was making himself a nervous wreck, he turned his attention to the window facing the street outside instead. Just in time to see Misao's figure wrapped up in jeans and boots and jacket making her way across the street. Halfway across an impatient driver earned himself a sharp rap on the hood and a string of what must have been the most effective combination of expletives he'd ever heard. Turning away from the greatly humbled man, she made it all the way across, her braid swinging left and right like an angered cat's tail.

In that anger, she had momentarily forgotten her reason for coming to the shop at all. A reason that rode back into her conscious mind on a wave of nausea as the smell of coffee and pastries pulled her back into a reality that she was having serious second thoughts about. In the few seconds it took for the bell above her head to stop ringing, her mind chased itself in circles around her decision. Unconsciously, she swallowed, sheer fear of he unknown causing her foot to move just a fraction of an inch backward before a raised arm caught her attention.

Soujiro waved nervously from his booth, simultaneously hoping that she had seen him and that he didn't look half the idiot he currently felt. Almost imperceptibly, her eyes slid towards him, as beautiful as emeralds against her olive complexion. Only when her body turned to follow the path they had set, did he realize that he'd stopped breathing the moment she'd walked in.

Misao could feel her eyes widen slightly as her date came into view. She had remembered that he was good-looking, but her half-lit memory from the bar hadn't prepared her for what a delightful piece of eye-candy she had almost turned down. Careful to keep her jaw under control, she gave him a close-lipped, but appreciative smile as she approached his seat.

Instinctively, Soujiro was on his feet just as she made it to their booth. Misao looked puzzled for a moment until his hands touched her shoulders. 

"Please," he said, "Let me."

Surprised, but flattered, Misao allowed him to slip her coat off and fold it once before setting it neatly on the seat beside her. 

She paused for a moment before sliding into her seat. It was not the fact that he had taken her coat as a sign of good manners. It was the fact that he's done it _properly_. Her eyes fell on the folds of her jacket; no doubt that when the heat of the toasty little shop had dried up all the melted snow, it would be left with nary a wayward crease. Her eyes flicked back up to his face with what should have been a searching gaze, but it soon melted into a moderate blush when she realized that his surprisingly warm, gray eyes were fixed on her own with an expression of pure, unbridled awe.

After a moment of this, he visibly shook himself, seemingly embarrassed at his blatant show of admiration. "Forgive me," he said shyly, "It's just that you're even more beautiful than I remembered."

_Ditto_. "It's okay," she said as flippantly as she could, "I'm not offended."

_Nope. Not in the least._

He smiled then, one that matched his eyes for warmth. "Good," he said, "I'm glad."

Without wanting it to, a smile of her own broke the surface to echo his own. "So Soujiro," she said, her lips and tongue deliberately rolling over the word, "I never did properly thank you for saving me the trouble of starting a brawl the other night. You really did me a favor there."

Soujiro shrugged and Misao could not help but think that it had looked boyishly adorable when he did. "You don't need to thank me," he replied, "I just have a problem with bullies in general, it doesn't matter what's the circumstance. It just happens to be one of the things I really hate."

An eyebrow rose high above its pool of jade, "Do you really hate a lot of things?" she casually asked.

Soujiro smiled again, recognizing the game, "Not really," he replied.

"Oh _really_?"

"Really."

Misao's smile deepened, she may not have been looking for a new father for Keiko just yet, but this Soujiro just might make an entertaining friend. Although that fell somewhat short of her perverse girlfriend's hopes, it would have to do.

Soon the waitress came and took their order, both were only mildly surprised when they had both called for the same coffee, sugar, cream combination as one person. They'd giggled over that for a while before putting the order through and settling more comfortably into their seats to enjoy the _atmosphere._

"So why a singer?" he asked, popping a mini-croissant into his mouth.

Misao chewed thoughtfully for a moment, "Well," she finally said, "A friend got me in contact with the owner of the club and she liked me. I needed the money myself so I thought, why not?"

"Do you like it?"

"It has its moments," she replied with a smile, "What about you?"

Soujiro twitched imperceptibly, "Me?"

"Yeah, what do you do to pay the bills?"

"Well," he faltered, "I work in my family's business." He brought his coffee to his lips, praying that she was satisfied with his half-truth answer.

"Really?" she asked, " Are you the manager or something?"

_If you only knew_. "I'm in charge of general operations, yes."

Misao sighed and leaned back in her chair, "So you're one of the lucky ones who had the guesswork taken out for them, huh?"

His expression darkened slightly although he carefully kept the smile in place, "Lucky isn't a word I'd really use in that situation."

Misao's eyes softened with empathy, "But at least you have your parents and siblings to help out, right?"

His smile grew wistful, "My Mom was never really an active member of the company to begin with, and my sister decided that she didn't want to be tied down to something that she didn't love, so she left."

The answer lingered in the distance like a silhouette in twilight, but she asked the question anyway, "And your dad?"

"Cancer, three years ago." he replied. 

She pursed her lips and squinted out the window, "I'm sorry," she said, mentally kicking herself for her curiosity.

After a silence he spoke again, "What about you?" he asked brightening up again.

"Hn?"

"What about your family?"

It was now her turn to put on the unreadable smile, "I'm an orphan," she answered simply, "I grew up in the system."

The world around them seemed to slow down as the information sank in. It seemed impossible that someone so wonderful didn't have anyone at all. As crazy as his sister and mother could be, at least they were still _there_. It just didn't seem fair.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She looked directly into his eyes and smiled in a way that belied a quiet strength that lingered below its surface. "I'm not." she replied.

The statement was sheathed, but the message was clear. _"No sympathy please."_

_I respect that._ "You're a very interesting woman, Misao."

"Aw shucks," she joked, "You're not such a dud yourself, either."

They smiled at each other again, the same thought passing through their heads as they did.

_"Definitely worth a second date."_

***********************************************

**Author's Note:**

( rises from the grave )

Thought I'd been kidnapped by aliens, didn't you? : ) Well, I wasn't. But my life does tend to veer toward something that was written for the X files hence the nonwrityness. I love making up words ^^.

( dons heat resistant suit )

Fire away.  


	8. What are you smiling at?

      Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter Seven

"What are you smiling at?"

_*******************************************_

_"A change would do you good."_

_-Sheryl Crow-_

_********************************************_

      Everyone has their own way of doing things, that's about as simple a fact as you can state. The way one might choose however, is mostly influenced by what kind of mood your in.

Judging from the way Misao was bogeying down with her vacuum cleaner, Yuki could only guess that she was in a good one.

_Ten years living in a paper bag  
Feedback baby, he's a flipped out cat  
He's a platinum canary, drinkin' falstaff beer  
Mercedes rule, and a rented lear  
Bottom feeder insincere  
Prophet lo-fi pioneer  
Sell the house and go to school  
Get a young girlfriend, daddy's jewel  
A change would do you good  
A change would do you good___

Still not aware of her bemused best friend standing in the doorway, Misao proceeded with a shimmy n' shake that would have definitely upped the club's rating by at least a few points. Keiko, who was standing on the low table in the center of the room tried to copy her mother's move, giggling loudly to herself when her efforts caused her land squarely on her round little bottom.

_God's little gift is on the rag  
Poster girl posing in a fashion mag  
Canine, feline, Jekyll and Hyde  
Wear your fake fur on the inside  
Queen of south beach, aging blues  
Dinner's at six, wear your cement shoes  
I thought you were singing your heart out to me  
Your lips were syncing and now I see  
A change would do you good  
A change would do you good___

Laughing along with her daughter, Misao switched to a kind of modified version of the cha-cha-cha, dancing in a circle around the noisy machine as she slid it around the rug. Keiko, not one to be left out pushed herself up onto her feet again and raised her chubby hands high into the air and moved her hips left and right, laughing with glee that she could keep up with the music.

_Chasing dragons with plastic swords  
Jack off jimmy, everybody wants more  
Scully and angel on the kitchen floor  
And I'm calling buddy on the ouija board  
I've been thinking 'bout catching a train  
Leave my phone machine by the radar range  
Hello it's me, I'm not at home  
If you'd like to reach me, leave me alone  
  
A change would do you good  
A change would do you good_

Rocking her shoulders in time with the beat, Misao spun around on her heel to see Yuki standing in the doorway. Surprise of surprises, not only did she not look the least bit embarrassed at her own antics, she in fact grabbed hold of her friend's hand, abandoning her makeshift dance partner for a real one.

A delighted Keiko clapped her chubby hands, "Dance, Yuki-san!" she squealed.

Unable to deny such a heartfelt request, Yuki shrugged her shoulders and danced with her friend. Grabbing a pillow off of the floor, she held in front of her like a guitar as Misao chose a hairbrush to be her imaginary microphone.

_Hello, it's me, I'm not at home  
If  you'd like to reach me, leave me alone!_

_A change would do you good  
Oh! I think a change would do you good_

_Yeah! I said a change would do you good_

As two young women collapsed on the floor in a giggling heap, Keiko seized the opportunity to dive off of the table and into her mother's waiting arms.

"My little performer," Misao laughed as she snuggled the child, "Where did you learn to stage dive?"

Yuki grinned, "Must be in the blood," she observed, "Speaking of which, I came over here to remind you that we have rehearsal in an hour, lover-girl."

That did it. "It's not like that!" Misao squealed.

Yuki smirked to herself as she rose onto her feet and straightened her skirt. "Whatever you say, Lady Chatterley," she said as she bent down to take Keiko from her mother's arms, "But you and I both know that simple friendship brings not such miraculous transformations in personality."

Misao reddened again as she lifted herself off the floor but this time she didn't retaliate. What Yuki had said was true, although she had told herself for weeks that Soujiro was nothing more than good friend, little by little she was finding herself becoming more and more frustrated with the platonic nature of their relationship.

Yuki shifted the toddler's weight so that she rested more comfortably on her hip. "Hey Kei, you know what?" she said in a conspiratorially quiet voice, "When I left the apartment, Obaa-san was putting something into the oven."

Keiko's brown eyes grew round, "Baa-san's making snacks?" she asked delightedly.

Yuki feigned ignorance, "Well, I dunno," she said, "But we can go find out while Mommy goes to change."

"Yeah!" 

Misao was snapped back into reality by her daughter's voice, "Save some for me ok?" she said with a smile. 

************************************************

"And a one and a two and…"

At the sound of Yuki's cue, the empty club filled with the liquid beat of techno coming from it's many hidden speakers all around the room. Both she and Misao were on the main stage, wearing black, leather n' lace teddies that clung to both their bodies with all the tenacity of a lover's touch. The most enticing accessories they wore however, were the long black chiffon blindfolds that hid their eyes from view and trailed down their backs to rest ever so delicately on their derrieres. 

Both were standing back to back when the music began, but as the beat established itself within the air-conditioned room they slowly and sensuously began to move apart, not so much dancing as blatantly tantalizing any so-inclined person that might have been watching at the moment. The blindfolds made the act seem even more titillating as they afforded the illusion that both girls were unaware of anyone who might be watching, causing some small, perverse corner of the viewer's mind to believe that they had happened upon something exotic and forbidden. Something that they had neither right to see, nor the power to resist.  

_      Knew you'd be here tonight_

_      So I put my best dress on_

_      Boy I was so right_

_      Our eyes connected_

_      Now nothing's how it used to be_

_      No second guesses_

Misao and Yuki circled each other in a stalking fashion, hands carefully reaching out for some clue as to the other's whereabouts. 

_      Track in on this feeling_

_      Pull focus close up you and me_

_      Nobody's leaving_

_      Got me affected_

_      Spun me 180 degrees_

_      It's so electric_

The two girls closed the circle until their faces were mere inches apart, Misao facing the backstage as Yuki faced the front. Slowly, deliberately, Misao's hand rose until it was almost caressing her friend's cheek. Although she was not quite touching her partner, Yuki's face took on a look of pure ecstasy as she threw her head back so that Misao's hand could continue it's mock-glide over her neck and down her chest.

_       Slow down and dance with me_

_      Yeah, slow_

_      Skip a beat and move with my body_

_      Yeah, slow_

_      Come on and dance with me_

_      Yeah, slow_

_      Skip a beat and move with my body_

_      Yeah, slow_

It was now Misao's turn to lean backward as Yuki's hands pressed themselves against the small of her back as she drew closer, her lips seemingly blowing cool air over Misao's throat and breasts. Misao gave her audience the desired reaction, her full lips parting as her body writhed inches away from Yuki's.

As the chorus ended, they both slid apart and continued on as if their contact had never happened at all. Their moves took on a more dance-like style, each mimicking the other while still preserving the illusion that they each believed that she was the only one present.

_      Don't wanna rush it_

_      Let the rhythm pull you in_

_      It's here so touch it_

_      You know what I'm saying_

_      And I haven't said a thing_

_      Keep the record playing_

On the last line, the two found themselves back to back, pressing against each other as they ran their hands through their hair and over their own bodies, slowing their movements in time with the music.

_      Slow down and dance with me_

_      Yeah, slow_

_      Skip a beat and move with my body_

_      Yeah, slow_

_      Come on and dance with me_

_      Yeah, slow_

_      Skip a beat and move with my body_

_      Yeah, slow_

_      Read my body language_

_      Take it down, down_

Still pressing against one another for support both women slid downward until they both were on their knees. At the same time they both arched backwards suddenly, Misao's torso angling itself so that she and Yuki both had the room to move. 

_      Slow down and dance with me_

_      Yeah, slow_

_      Skip a beat and move with my body_

_      Yeah, slow_

_      Come on and dance with me_

_      Yeah, slow_

_      Skip a beat and move with my body_

_      Yeah, slow_

Curling forward again, both ladies rose to their feet again and began their circling routine, gradually closing it's radius as the music winded down.

_      Skip a beat and move with my body_

_      Skip a beat and move with my body…_

_      Skip a beat and move with my body_

_      Slow…      _

For a brief, tantalizing moment they stood face to face as their hands seemingly began to move toward one another again, but at the last moment, Misao's rose to bury themselves in her hair as she thrust her hip outward. Yuki on the other hand, allowed her body to glide down to the floor on one knee and her arms encircled Misao's legs instead of her waist.

"Feh."

At the sound of the word, Misao's hands came down from her hair to fold themselves tightly across her chest and Yuki's facial expression soured visibly from under her mask. A round of disapproving noises rose from around the room in support of the girls' distaste.

"Oh, like you can do any better?" came the disgruntled voice of another dancer.

"I can do better than _you_." was the arrogant reply.

Yuki rose to her feet and untied her blindfold, "I'd like to see you try…_old man_." 

"Oi!"

Mashiro chuckled from behind the bar, "Hiko-sama hasn't been on a stage since the Ice Age." 

 "And even then you were already retired." came another female voice.

That raised a chorus of loud laughter from all around the room. However, it would take much more than that to faze Seijuro Hiko.

"Nice," he said dryly, "I wonder if it will still be funny in the unemployment line?"

Misao laughed as she pulled her blindfold off without untying it. Hiko might have been very good at pretending to be annoyed, but deep inside she knew that he adored his staff at the club. 

"Oh you won't fire us Hiko-sama," she quipped as she jumped off of the stage and onto the main floor, "Who else will you find to take your bullshit?"

Despite himself, the corner of Hiko's mouth twitched, "Well look who's in a good mood for once." he observed.

Yuki's face took on a look of deep self-satisfaction as she mockingly wrapped the blindfold around her shoulders and fluttered her eyelashes.

"It's 'cause of her new booooooyy-friend," she said.

For the first time in a long time, the staff of the Black Sakura was rendered silent by the news. Mashiro was the first to recover, carefully setting the glass bottle he was holding onto the counter, he pressed his fists to his hips and raised an eyebrow in Misao's direction.

"Say…what?" 

"Oh it's true," Yuki gabbled on as Misao grew red with embarrassment, "Rode right into her life like a knight on a white charger too. Some perv tried to get fresh with her at the Glass Slipper but then el hero stepped in and got her out of there." She sighed, touching her forehead with the back of her hand like they do in old movies, "It was love at first sight."

"Oh, grow up," Misao growled.

Sasami, the idealist of the group, clasped her hands together and squealed the customary phrase, "That's so romantic!" 

"You wretch," said Suki, the dancer who added the insult to Hiko's injury earlier, "If Yuki hadn't opened her blabbermouth you two would have eloped by the time we knew anything!"

Mashiro strode out from behind the bar and stood in front of Misao, "The first bite you haven't ignored and you don't tell me?" he said pressing his hand to his chest in a hurt fashion before leaning down closer to her face.

"So, does he have a nice ass or what?"

Suki covered her ears as Sasami giggled, "Aw, goddamnit Mashiro!" she wailed.

Mashiro turned his head and shrugged, "What? That's a basic requirement!"

"The man's got a point." Yuki agreed.

Misao suddenly felt as if she were trapped in the twilight zone, "If you all will excuse me, I think I'll just go find a hole to curl up and die in." she said as she turned toward the dressing rooms.

On the way, she passed close to where Hiko was sitting apart from the others, as she came closer his voice took on a serious tone meant for her ears only.

"This guy," he said, "Are sure that he's…?" 

Misao smiled as she patted her boss on the shoulder, "What's good for me has to be good for _her_, first." she said softly and reassuringly.

Hiko looked satisfied. Getting back into "boss-mode" again, he turned his eyes to where the others were pressing a delighted Yuki for more information.

"Alright, break it up!" he barked, "Suki, get up there and put your money where your mouth is!"

***************************************

Author's Notes:

Right now my head feels funny, probably from staring at the screen without my glasses for the last hour or so. What can I say? When I get the vibes to write I forget the practical stuff.

I've never really written anything in the way of fan-service for the boy's-section, so you male readers might want to give me a thumbs up or down on Yuki and Misao's performance. As for Hiko being the owner of the Black Sakura…I just wouldn't have it any other way.

Flame on.


	9. Light and Shadow

Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter Eight

"Light and Shadow"

_"My love Isobel, living by herself…"_

_-Bjork-_

Despite her fiery personality, Yumi had not been a wayward student during her academic years. Like her brother and their father before them both, she possessed an innate sort of intelligence that had served her well within the walls of the prestige colleges that Noriko had insisted that they attend. Ironically, it was this same intelligence that revealed to her the masked conceit of the world that she "belonged" to. To partner that with her father's wonderfully stubborn belief in equality, one that his children had eagerly absorbed from an early age was to lay the foundation for her righteous and permanent disdain for the upper crust of society.

Even so, she was not without her loyalties. In the end she had worked hard to earn her degree and then joined her father at the company. At first, it was all right. Her father made no effort to see that she was afforded any special treatment, but only because he knew that Yumi preferred to be recognized for her ability rather than her parentage…and ability she had. Her designs were always original and her logic always sound. Although most of the higher-ups in the business found her absolutely infuriating, even they had to admit that the clients absolutely loved her work, and due to her earthy nature, found her to be the easiest to approach with a new idea or a special request, suggestions that she always considered seriously unlike her retentive coworkers who would all but literally bite the hands that fed them at the slightest indication that a layman might have a better idea than the so-called professionals. "A true professional," her father had once told her, "is never quick to acknowledge his or her qualification." It was the thought of that bit of wisdom that kept her smiling through the daily ape-calls and chest pounding among her colleagues. However, it took more than her father's version of "Empty vessels make the most noise," to keep her spirits up when the cancer had literally consumed most of his body, leaving them with just barely enough of him to validate the use of a coffin in the end. After that, she had tried to stay on for her brother's sake, but soon it became clear that she no longer possessed the levity that was needed for a person like her to function in a place like that. For months after she had left, clients kept trying to get her to do designs for them privately, but her heart was no longer in it, so she turned them away.

Every now and then she was hit with a special nostalgia, as she was now, looking up at a building that she herself had so lovingly drawn out four and a half years ago, exactly fourteen months before her worst nightmare came to reality.

"So much for the past," she sighed, her breath rising in a cloud of vapor as she pulled her coat more tightly around her body, juggling her lone grocery bag from hand to hand. It had been her idea to have her brother and his new lady friend to have dinner with her in her little apartment, but she was content to let Soujiro think that he was the mastermind of it all. It was exactly the sort of thing her mother would do to get her own way; maybe Noriko's genes weren't as dormant as she had previously thought? In any case, she was glad for the opportunity to meet the object of Soujiro's affection.

* * *

Soujiro felt Misao's hand tighten its grip on his own as they stepped onto the elevator that would take them up to Yumi's floor. Although there was no indication of her anxiety in her facial expression, her squeeze brought her pulse closer to his fingertips and in it he could feel her heart steadily racing its way toward a state of panic. Gently, he brushed his thumb against the outside of her hand, to distract her from whatever thought that was causing her to doubt herself.

"Yumi will love you," he murmured soothingly, "In fact, I think she already does."

Misao's blue-green eyes flashed upwards to find the reassuring warmth of his soft, gray gaze. Timidly, she returned his smile, knowing that he had misinterpreted the cause of her anxiety. Although she was somewhat apprehensive at the thought of meeting someone who was such a pivotal figure in Soujiro's life, the lion's share of her worry hovered over the little couch in Yuki's apartment where her tiny daughter lay sleeping. Here she was, about to be introduced to a member of Soujiro's immediate family and she had yet to tell him that she had one of her own. It was the thought of his rejection that was causing her heart to race.

"One milestone at a time, Misao," she told herself as the elevator doors slid open, "One milestone at a time…"

* * *

Soujiro was right. Yumi and Misao had hit it off instantly, in Soujiro's older sister, Misao found an ally who appealed to the wilder, outspoken side of her personality and in Misao, Yumi had found a brilliant conversationalist whose ideas and ideals complimented her own. They had talked, laughed and argued in a way that most "old friends" could not. Between the good food and even better company Misao found herself in such an easy state as to forget her anxieties over the thought of Soujiro being introduced to little Keiko and actually enjoy herself in a way that she couldn't have guessed that she would.

The rain had begun to fall just as they were getting ready to leave Yumi's place, so Soujiro had called a cab to pick them up and take them both home. Misao had not protested; she was too content at the moment to play the role of the strong, independent, "I can get home on my own" woman tonight. Instead she had allowed Soujiro to go through every near-forgotten ritual of chivalry, from opening a borrowed umbrella over her head to opening the door for her to get in first. Somehow, with Soujiro it seemed natural that he should do these things for the sake of her comfort. If it had been another man, she was sure that his intentions would have made his movements seem forced and clumsy. Unlike so many others, Soujiro was not trying to impress her panties off; he just simply found pleasure in seeing to her happiness in any small way he could.

This was why she felt no unease when her slightly sleepy state had caused her to lean towards him as the cab took a corner. Instead of righting herself with the car, Misao simply allowed her head to drop onto his shoulder and closed her eyes, trusting him as she had never trusted any man before to take her home safely.

Soujiro looked down at Misao's face as she half-slept against his shoulder. He could feel his chest warming with the feelings that he tried to tone down in her presence, fearing that too much, too soon would drive her far away.

Without stirring or opening her eyes, Misao seemed to feel his gaze on her. "Your sister is an amazing woman," she softly whispered, "I'm glad that you let me meet her."

_"You are the one who is amazing."_ he wanted to say. Instead he timidly put an arm around her to keep her steady. "I'm glad that you think so," he replied just as softly, "Especially since she seems to like you more than she does me."

Misao chuckled at the joke, unconsciously snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Me, replace you?" she laughed, "I think that Yumi is thoroughly satisfied with the sibling she got. I'm tempted to say she 'dotes' on you."

Soujiro smiled, "Well she has always been er…protective of me," he said sheepishly, "I guess that's just the role you have to play when you're the eldest, there's always someone to shield under your wing so to speak."

Misao's smile turned thoughtful, "I can understand how she feels," she said softly, "Even with my past, there always seemed to be someone who needed me to look out for them. That's…one thing that hasn't changed up till now."

The taxi had almost reached to the street where Misao's apartment-building stood. Soujiro timidly took her hand in his, squeezing it gently.

"How would you like it if you had someone to take care of you for a change?"

She cast her eyes downward, afraid that they might not be as withholding as her tongue. "What do you mean?" she asked, trying to keep the tremor of fear out of her voice.

His throat felt as if it were drying up with every breath he took. "I…" he fumbled, "I mean that I'd like to get to know you better…Misao…I…want to know everything about you."

The taxi was slowing down to stop at the building's main entrance and to his surprise; Misao fixed him with a stare that was neither fawning nor frightened. Instead, she stared at him as if she could see through every nuance that his manner possessed, as if right through to his soul.

"Why?" she asked, as her eyes shone a true, catlike green in the streetlight overhead.

He could not have lied if he had wanted to; the words had already tumbled off of his tongue before he could even think of stopping himself.

"Because I think that I've fallen in love with you."

Another surprise, her feature looked as if they wanted to soften at his words, but then she reigned herself back in before he could be sure of what he saw.

"Would you feel the same way about a woman who already had a child?"

"Misao I'd love you if you had twelve kids!"

Now, when someone drops a bomb on you, it is a well known fact that there is a 30-second delay between your initial reaction and the maelstrom of understanding that follows once your brain catches up to your mouth. Misao, being seasoned well beyond her years simply raised an eyebrow and waited for his sluggish man-mind to catch up with what he'd just said.

Sure enough, his face slowly began to warm itself up to a healthy red, soon after which it drained completely of its color. When he spoke again his voice was barely loud enough to be described as a squeak.

"You have a child?" he asked.

Misao nodded, "A daughter, two and a half years old and I have no idea who her father is, thank Kami, otherwise I'd have one more thing to balance on my overloaded plate."

"I…" he finally said, "Don't know what to say…"

"You don't have to say anything," she said with a kind smile, "Thank you for letting me have dinner with you and your sister tonight, I really did have a good time. And…if you don't call me back after this, I really don't blame you."

_"If you don't call me back…"_

Gathering her coat and purse she let herself out of the car and began to make her way to the door of the building. As she walked away, Soujiro's throat began to work violently and soundlessly as his brain raced to catch up with what she had just said.

Hurriedly, he thrust the driver's fare into his hand and scrambled after her. "Misao, wait!" he shouted.

Misao stopped and slowly turned to face him, her mask of indifference still trying to hide what she felt inside although her eyes broadcasted it for all who cared to see it.

Soujiro panted slightly from his sprint from taxi to stoop. Gently he took her hand in his as he had done in the taxi several minutes ago.

"I took you to meet my family tonight because I wanted you to be closer to me," he almost whispered, "If you'd let me, I'd like to meet your family too."

She could feel the indifference slip from her face as soon as she had heard his last word. One by one the hidden feelings came to the surface; fear definitely but with it came something more, an inner warmth that she could only compare to the one she had when she had held Keiko in her arms for the first time.

She said nothing, only smiled as she closed her hand around his and led him inside.

**

* * *

****Author's Notes:**

Yes! I live! Although barely Oo. Here's the five point update:

· Moved out of my parent's house into a flat with two other roomies I had not met before. One of them is cool. I call it the 50 blessing.

· Started training college and it's devouring all my time

· Immediately fell in with my usual kind of crowd as soon as I started i.e. intellectual sl4k3rz, evil geniouses, fellow writers and cool crazy people

· Turned 22

· Updated this fic after a many-month hiatus.

I deserve the flames. I deserve them soooo very much .


	10. A little Princess

Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter Nine

"A little princess"

_"I need love."_

_-Seal-_

He remembered once, years ago when he was still a boy, his father had said to him that to fall in love once was a blessing, but to fall twice was a miracle. At the time he did not understand his father's words for at the time he was only just a boy, and what does a mere boy know about love? But now, now he was a man and his father a memory embedded in his heart and soul, the knowledge of what his simple statement meant washed over him like a tsunami made of sunlight. For at long last, he had found his second love, and her name was Keiko.

Misao had watched silently from the darkened doorway as Soujiro stared at the babe asleep in her little bed. He held his breath without knowing it, as if the child were merely a mirage that would dissipate before his eyes if he did. She was so much like her mother, already a beauty in her formative years. Within him he could feel his heart straining as if it were trying to get closer to her tiny form the way that a flower follows the light as it travels across the sky. Ever so quietly, he slipped out of the little room of mobiles and stuffed animals, but even as he shut the door behind him a part of him had already recognized the fact that he had just left a piece of his heart behind.

Misao sat on her little sofa staring up at him the way a child stares when she is reading a parent's face for approval or disapproval, searching for his true feelings toward her and her child. She hid her own feelings well enough, but as he sat beside her and took her hands in his he felt them tremble with anxiety.

He smiled at her in assurance, "She is beautiful," he said gently.

Her eyes softened at his gentleness, "She is all I have," she replied, "That's why I didn't tell you before. I apologize if you felt I deceived you."

Soujiro shook his head. "Iie," he said, "There's no need to apologize. You were doing the right thing by protecting her."

A short bark of laughter from Misao drew a slightly puzzled look from him. When he looked at her questioningly she waved a hand in front of her face apologetically. "It's your choice of words," she explained with a smile, "they just struck me as funny, that's all."

"I see," he said, not disregarding the hint of sadness in her voice even through the smile. He sought to change the subject, "Did you ever try to find her father?" he asked, "I mean, to let him know that she exists?"

Misao looked at him the way you looked at a child who still believed in Santa Claus. "No I didn't." she replied, already aware of how she answered his next, inevitable question would make or break the bond that had already formed between them.

A niggling twinge at the back of his conscience warned him that if he kept on he would never be able to turn back. Still, the need to know everything about the woman in his company was too strong to deny. Painfully aware of what he might be doing, he asked what he would later refer to in his own mind as the pivotal question.

"Why didn't you?"

The breath she took to fuel her answer seemed to last longer that it should have. She was like an underwater swimmer who was helpless to dodge an oncoming object that was moving much more swiftly than she was. Unbidden, she felt her lips part, and although the movements of her tongue felt as thick as molasses poured from a spoon she could do nothing to slow the impact of her next words.

"I didn't tell him because I didn't know whom to tell," she confessed, "Soujiro, I was gang-raped."

* * *

Yumi answered the phone eagerly thinking that she would hear her brother's voice on the other end. Instead, the light, audibly worried tone of his secretary greeted her when she said hello. 

"What is it Ami?" she asked.

She could almost see the girl's finger twist around a lock of her spiky hair in anxiety, "Has Seta-san talked to you today?" she asked.

Yumi shifted her phone to the other ear, "No he hasn't," she replied, "Did he show up for work at all today?"

"No he hasn't," the girl said miserably, "He always calls if something comes up, but today he didn't."

The other end of the line was silent for a moment. "Ami?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"Take the rest of the day off, I doubt he'll be coming in later," Yumi ordered, "And stop worrying, I'm sure he's okay."

"Yes ma'am." The secretary reluctantly replied before hanging up.

Yumi bit down on her thumbnail for a moment after the line went dead as if she were deep in thought. A moment later, she had her coat on and her keys in her pocket as she hurriedly walked out the door of her apartment.

* * *

It was a short taxi trip from her relatively small apartment to the rather more upscale condominium that Soujiro had reluctantly bought at Noriko's nagging request after they had sold the family home upon their father's death. A brief chat with the doorman on the way up told all she needed to know about her brother's whereabouts. Soujiro had arrived home in the wee hours of the morning and had not been down since then. 

"Sou?" she called as she knocked gently on the door. It was a sure sign of her concern, for on any other day Yumi was Yumi and she would let her own (_damn_) self in.

"Sou?" she called again.

His voice was so soft she had to strain to make out the words, it was a long moment before her brain sorted out the muffled reply of "It's open," and she turned the knob.

The apartment was so dark that her eyes had to adjust themselves before she could make out his silhouette on the window seat at the far end of the living area, the only light to discern one object from another being a thin sliver of sunshine from where the drapes did not quite meet.

She fought hard against the sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach. The last time Soujiro had locked himself in a dark room, the man in their lives needed a machine to breathe for him.

"Sou," she asked cautiously, "What's wrong?"

For a moment it were as if she had not spoken at all, but then his shoulders slowly rose and then fell with a heavy sigh. "I didn't know…" he said softly, almost to himself, "I just didn't know."

Full of concern for her sibling, Yumi climbed onto the window seat beside him and sat back on her heels, "Didn't know what, Sou?" she asked.

He turned to face her then, his gray eyes glowing in the sliver of light from the sun outside. His face seemed to have aged overnight, overcast with the residue of past regrets. She almost did not register his next words.

"Misao has a daughter…"

She felt her lips part and her eyes widen, but before the surprise could wash over her fully, he went on.

"Yumi," he said, his features mirroring his frustration over the inadequacy of his words, "When I saw her little face, my first thing that came to my mind was this… _irrepressible_ wish that she were mine. I wanted her to wake up right at that moment and look at me and call me Daddy, and I kept thinking that it would be the most beautiful sound in whole world. It _scared_ me Yumi."

He opened his hands and looked down at his palms as if the answer to his dilemma were written on them. "I became so jealous," he confessed, "I just had to know who Keiko's father was, and I saw the sadness in her eyes when I asked her why he wasn't around, but I just had to know..."

Yumi gently took his hands in hers and pressed them lightly to encourage him. "Go on," she urged.

His face still hidden from view, she felt, rather than saw the rage that boiled inside of him.

"Misao doesn't know who Keiko's father is," he whispered, "She was in her last semester of high-school when she was drugged and gang-raped at a house party."

Yumi felt as if she had been stabbed in the heart. Misao? Cheery, lively Misao from the night before? She wouldn't believe it, she couldn't.

Soujiro's hands began to tremble, "She was an innocent, an _orphan_ for Kami-sama's sake!" he hissed, "But they just didn't care! She was nothing to them, a disposable human being for them to play with!"

His hands tightened around hers as he remembered how Misao had literally cried herself to sleep into his shirt the night before. Three years worth of pent up rage seeping into the fabric, soaking through to his bare skin and what lay beneath it.

"I don't ever want to hear her cry again Yumi," he confessed, "It broke my heart."

* * *

Author's Notes 

And now, what is fast becoming my bi-annual update

1. Moved out of the old flat after being SWF-ed by a crazy new roomate who seems to want to eat my soul and assume my identity Oo.

2. Couldn't update or finish this chapter which was started in AUGUST because of the moving, settling in and lecturers who continually suck my fresh, sweetblood of youth.

3. My hamster died at the ripe old age of 2 with a cheekful of sunflower seeds and a buck-toothed smile.

And I'm feelin' strangely fine. I'll update again as soon as humanly possible.


	11. Butterflies

Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter Ten

"Butterflies"

_"What a feeling"_

_-Aqualung-_

"_I can feel myself falling through the endlessness of my inner self, faster and deeper than I ever have before. I find myself lapsing out of normalcy, my mind and body awash with feelings so strange and so new that they encompass my entire being for long moments at a time, like sprites whisking my consciousness away into the most delicious fairy-dust induced fantasies. I have no control over these emotions and truly, there are moments where they scare me half to death but somehow, somehow I know that there is little to fear and that I am not the sole inhabitant of my newfound nirvana."_

_Mata yo ga akereba owakare  
Yume wa tooki maboroshi ni  
Ynata wo oikakete ita hikari no naka de  
Dakareru tabi atatakai kaze wo tayori_

Soujiro watched Misao knowingly from his place at the bar. Two months ago he did not really know the woman singing on the stage at the front of the room, but serendipity had done well to fulfill his desires and bring the two together in a way that all the money in his bank account could not. His happiness was difficult to conceal, even Noriko, who noticed nothing unless it affected her in some direct manner, had commented on his condition, claiming that he had begun to "glow." He was aware that she suspected the nature of his verve and was only waiting for an opening to ask who the new woman in his life was.

"_Women, Mother dear, women."_ he thought to himself with a smile.

_Haru wo tsuge odoridasu sansai ("sunshine")  
Natsu wo miru uji nohara karakusa kawaku wa  
Aki o tsuki nobotta manmarusa oiwai  
Fuyu wo sugi mata tsukihi o kazoeru_

Misao, being Misao, had spared him the acquisition of the title "Uncle" when he and Keiko were first formally introduced. She had introduced him as "Mommy's friend Soujiro," no suffix added to his name to serve to alienate the child from him. She had regarded him, not with fear, but an open curiosity that soon gave way to laughing requests for paper cranes and funny faces. He found himself doing the things that his father had done with him and sister. On a park visit he bought her an oversized inflatable ball and taught her how to catch, laughing, she ran around with it after her first successful attempt before barreling into his chest and hugging him as he sat on the grass. Misao had snapped a picture of them at that moment, the sun shining down on their smiling faces. He secretly kept a copy of that picture in his wallet, peeking at it at random times of the day, whenever he felt the working day becoming more difficult than usual. Like a druggie needing a fix.

_Mada mabuta no oku ni aru itsuka no natsu tooisugita aozora  
(atatakakatta)  
Te wo tsunagu hanatsukamiutau itsu ya omoide  
Ima yobisamasu kioku no naka de  
Iza arukidasu anata no moto e _

Misao watched him from her place on the stage as she sang. The soft velour of her skirt whispering against the charcoal colored stockings she wore underneath. She swayed her hips in time with the music as she sang, revealing a glimpse of her right leg with each sway, there being a thigh-high slit on that side of the backless gown. Soujiro felt his eyes dip to catch a glimpse of her silk-wrapped leg as her hips rolled subconsciously to the music's rhythm. It was so unlike him to stare so impertinently at a woman's assets, but Misao seemed to posses the ability to set his blood on fire, even from this distance away. On a recent movie outing, he had even admitted to her the first time that they had "met", watching with more amusement than apprehension as her cheeks turned pink and her eyes glittered mischievously above them. It was his turn to be surprised when she admitted that she had hoped that he would have been the one not to remember her little…performance. Baffled, he proceeded to ask just how long she had known. Misao giggled.

"When you scared off the creep at the club I got a good look at you," she laughed, "I opened my mouth to say something about it, but then we got bumped together on the dance floor and I changed my mind." And then, to his mortification, she had asked what he thought of her birthday dance. She laughed openly as he sputtered, reaching into their shared bucket of popcorn and popping a kernel into her mouth as she smiled at the screen.

_Haru wo tsuge odotte sanba  
Natsu wo miru uji nohara karakusa kawakuwa  
Aki o tsuki nobotta manmarusa oiwai  
Fuyu wo sugi mata tsukihi o kazoeru _

_Mata yo ga akereba owakare  
Yume wa tooki maboroshi ni  
Anata wo oikakete ita hikari no naka de_

The performance ended and Misao bowed to the audience as the band prepared for their next set. Soujiro applauded with the rest, staring at the woman in open admiration as she turned to speak to the band leader. Her back, exposed, curved invitingly in the spotlights above the stage and even from his distance away he could discern the rippling of beautifully defined muscle as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. His eyes traced a languorous path from axis to coccyx pausing only to trace the outlines of the design that adorned the upper part of her back. _"Oni and tenshi,"_ he thought, _"An angel of a woman that seems to bring out the devil in me."_

Misao turned as if she had heard his thoughts and looked him directly in the eyes; he stood, frozen in her blue-green gaze for a moment, trying to read the emotion that shone out from their depths. He felt his heart skip as her mouth curled up in a soft smile to rival the Mona Lisa's in its ambiguity.

Somewhere on the edge of his consciousness someone began to play a drum. Not the standard drum set that he had already heard several times already for the night. These sounds were far less polished, more primal as if it were someone's fingertips coming into direct contact with the surface coaxing the sound out of the instrument with a touch that was measured and deliberate. He did not look to see who the drummer was, for Misao's eyes held him steady as her lips parted and her voice flowed from between them like honey for the ear.

_Ne mune ga watashi ifurete _

_Dokashite_

_Sweet whisper…_

_anata wa ore batasu miame_

_kata hitotsu no... ito_

Slowly, the hips began to sway again, this time her shoulders joining in the dance. She was like a fox demon, her voice, her many tails that reached out to him in mock-caress, radiating her unique sensuality that kept his heart quivering on the edge of unnamed desire, like an arrow on the taut string of a crossbow.

_Ne ikenai anata ni fureta_

_Kasanaru yori fukai_

_Sweet whisper…_

_Modokashi ore takata ni kieta_

_Tsuki e no michi wo_

_Anata e to tsuzuku kashira_

_Wasurerarenai atsui manazashi_

_Soshite amai toiki_

_Susarei de Lullaby_

_Eien Lullaby_

_Come, whisper me_

_And touch me_

_Tokimeki wa ren'ai_

_Kotoba wa ren'ai_

_Whisper now_

She sang in whispers that spoke of the languorous kind of love that one savors in between sheets of silk and Egyptian cotton with the taste of fine wine still lingering on your lips. Unlike his former self at the strip club, a seemingly inexperienced boy who sat with his hands in his lap and his mouth as wide open as a beached fish, his true self flickered and grew like a fire she stoked deep in his heart, her love-whispers tearing away even the fabric of his naive façade revealing the eyes of a man who knew exactly what he wanted.

_Setsunaku ayamii_

_Anata no toiki ni_

_Just whisper…_

_And love's sweet touch_

It was an invitation, that he could clearly see. Misao wanted him as badly as he wanted her. How badly he had wanted her, ever since he first lost himself in the depths of those ocean colored eyes that held him in their gaze, reflecting the emotion that had always lived inside of him. The emotion that only she could unlock from within the depths of his cosseted heart.

Love.

_Setsunaku ayamii_

_Anata no toiki ni_

_Just whisper…and love's sweet touch _

_Setsunaku ayamii_

_Anata no toiki ni_

_Sweet whisper (Mitaretai)_

_Love's sweet touch (Kutsuretai)_

Further words were not needed. From her place beneath the spotlight Misao could clearly see Soujiro's eyes accepting her call, yearning for her in a way that she thought no man ever would. Soujiro was in love with all of her, body and soul. And she wanted him to know that they were his, just as she knew in her heart of hearts that he was hers as well.

_Agareru omoe wa_

_Mina soko ni nemure_

_Yume tsumeru made_

_Sweet whisper_

_Mina soko ni_

_Sweet whisper_

_Nemure_

The song ended; the rest of the crowd oblivious to the exchange between the two. He saw the bandleader pat her on the shoulder with a beaming smile that indicated that he was happy that the last set of the night was also the best. After their applause, the audience began to peter out of the exits as the band packed up their instruments for the night. Misao came down the stage's steps with a languid step toward him, as she came closer, he could see the glimmer of sweat on her skin, particularly her décolletage where he could also detect her slightly labored breath. Unsurprisingly he too found that it had become harder to breathe, as if the weight of his desire had seated itself squarely and evenly over each lung.

"Great set." He managed to say.

"Thank you," she replied gracefully despite the hunger dancing in her eyes, "Are you ready to take me home?"

What a double meaning. His head dropped to his chest as if his neck had given way, "God," he growled, "What are you doing to me, woman?"

Misao's eyes were steady, predatory, cat-like. "The same thing you are doing to me," she answered sliding a hand under his chin and lifting his head. Bending over she brushed her lips over his, "Now take me home."

"What about Keiko?" he asked suddenly.

"I asked her obaa-san to take her for the night." she replied with a catty smile.

"You were planning far ahead," he observed.

She bent closer to his ear so only he could hear her next words, "I got tired of pleasing myself," she confessed gently and briefly catching the soft part of his lobe between her teeth. "Will you do it for me this time, Sou-sama?"

His entire spine shivered like a plucked guitar string. His nerves were all dancing close to the surface of his skin. His will was no longer his own.

_The beast stirreth._

"Get in the car," he whispered huskily.

**Author's Notes**

Now that you all know that I am still alive you may now deploy the nuclear warheads in my general direction. Please do, as I have absolutely no excuse for taking this long. That is all. I am a bad person. BAD.

In other news…

I've graduated from college. Well, I would have if I had cared to attend the ceremony. But I have my certificate in hand already so fuck'em.

P.S.S - editor is fucking up. I can't get seperators or NATHAN.

**Songs used: **

Brighter than Sunshine - Aqualung

Seasons – Samurai Champloo

Minasoko no Nemure – Blue Submarine No. 6 (very sexy, download and have a listen when you have time.)

Next chapter: "Afterglow"


	12. Afterglow

Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter Eleven

"Afterglow"

_"Now we're moving on up.."_

-Jeff Barry and Ja'net Dubois-

A gentle fluttering against his cheek like a butterfly's wing was the first thing he became aware of as his mind slowly rose out of sleep, like a diver giving himself over to the surf in order to be buoyed back to the surface. Yawning softly, he stretched to his full length on the king-sized bed as was his regular morning habit, only to find that this time; the bed did not quite accommodate him as it usually did. Instead, he found, one leg stretched off into thin air rather than onto his soft sheets. It was then he remembered, he was not lying on the sheets of his bed at all. Like a man in the realm of dreams he turned toward the other side of the bed to find the source of the fluttering he earlier felt. From the next pillow, Misao's cat-like eyes peered at him from under her long lashes … the source of the tickling sensation.

"Ohayo." She purred.

"Ohayo," he replied, regarding her deliciously tousled appearance and allowing his mind to wander back a few hours to where he was doing most of the tousling himself. The night before had made it clear that they were both animals in bed, in fact, Soujiro found himself impressed with Misao's ability not only to keep up with him, but also the fact that his raven-haired beauty gave him a good run for his money as well.

Misao herself was smiling like the cat that had lapped up the proverbial milk as her mind wandered back to the night before. Soujiro had been all that she had wanted and needed him to be. Passionate, sensual, patient when needed, Soujiro had fulfilled and exceeded all of her expectations of him as if he could read her mind. And she had rewarded him for his performance well. One does not be a practicing gymnast for over ten years without picking up a few applicable tricks.

"You know what?" she said after a moment of silence, "I think that we can put a big tick next to sexual compatibility on both of our lists, don't you agree, Sou?"

Soujiro smiled, a big, manly _"I am so satisfied with myself right now"_ smile.

"Aa," he replied, "I think I agree with you."

Misao rolled over on her belly, the plaid-patterned sheet slipping down her back, gliding over her flawless skin stopping only when it reached the delightful bump of her derriere. Soujiro followed its languorous journey with half-closed eyes, his irises darkening to almost the colour of slate as if to hide the unspoken desires that flitted around in his head as he watched. She was so very perfect, in every way he could possibly want, his sister adored her, he adored her child; they were like pieces of the same puzzle that had spent the last twenty-something years stored in different boxes in the same attic. Until fate and a rooster-head brought them together as they were always meant to be.

And she deserved more than just half of him.

Rolling closer to his lady's form, he whispered in her ear, the kind of whisper that God placed in men just for the ears of their soul mates.

"I want to show you something." He purred.

Misao smiled into the pillow, "Too late cowboy," came the muffled reply, "I think I got to see all that there is to see last night."

Soujiro chuckled and caught her earlobe between his front teeth, "Something else," he said, nibbling softly, "I want to show you who I really am."

Misao lifted her head and gave him an incredulous look.

"Please don't tell me you used to be a woman or something?"

Soujiro chuckled again, "Iie. I'm a real man my dear, no artificial colours or preservatives."

"A cross-dresser?"

"Iie."

"An undercover cop?"

"Iie."

She paused as her forehead wrinkled as if in deep thought, "A yakuza?"

"What?! No!"

"Then what?" she asked, turning her body to face his.

"I think it's better if I show you rather than tell you," he said, "Just promise me that you'll…keep an open mind?"

An incredulous look crossed her ocean-coloured eyes, but then she shrugged in a _"Que sera, sera"_ kind of way. "All right," she yawned, stretching her curvy body, "Just so long as it's legal."

* * *

"No freakin' way!" Misao gasped as she exited the taxi that Soujiro had hired. 

Every muscle in Soujiro's body had tightened in anxiety as he awaited Misao's reaction. Weirdly enough, he too had begun to feel like a stranger himself as Misao's wide, ocean-hued stare swept over the entirety of Seta Corp.'s headquarters. The impressive and beautiful mass of glass, concrete and steel seemed suddenly intimidating to him, as if the building were alive and contemplating whether or not he was worth taking the trouble to squish.

Misao looked back at him, her eyes still as big as dinner-plates, but under her surprise a smile bloomed. "So this is where you work?" she half-gasped, half-laughed, "Wow, Sou, you really know how to keep a secret."

Soujiro blinked twice and then heaved a deep, long-awaited sigh. "I just didn't want to scare you off," he confessed, "I didn't want you to think of me as some rich creep out for a good time, you know?"

"Good time!" a little voice squealed, echoing him.

Misao laughed and scooped her daughter into her arms. "Well, I'm glad you put so much thought into it." She smiled. "Makes a girl feel good to know that you put in so much effort, you know?" she asked with a wink.

Soujiro felt himself blush, but he didn't care. He was too happy to care. Taking Keiko from her mother's arms he offered Misao his free arm and walked her into the building.

* * *

Misao was not quite prepared for the curious stares of the company's other employees as they walked through the building's lobby. One woman even dropped a folder she was carrying out of apparent surprise as Soujiro greeted her as he passed by with Keiko hooked under his arm. Soujiro himself however, seemed unfazed as he swept through them, guiding her toward a crystalline elevator at the back. As Soujiro leaned over and instructed Keiko which button to push, she lifted her eyes to find the entire lobby looking back at her through the elevator's glass doors. She blinked and lifted an eyebrow at them, puzzled at their reaction. 

"Um," she asked, "Are all the people who work here so weird?"

Soujiro laughed as he looked down to where Keiko played with the collar of his jacket. "Oh that," he chuckled, "They always act a little weird when the boss is around."

"Oh." She answered, the meaning of his words momentarily passing over her head.

"Wait…WHAT?!"

Just then the door slid open to reveal a familiar, smiling face and behind it, what was obviously the building's executive office.

Yumi quickly read the shock on Misao's face as she stood rigidly behind the elevator's open doorway. Above her head and to her left her brother smiled sheepishly as an adorable little girl played with his collar. Stepping forward she took the ex-gymnast's hand and patted it gently.

"Sorry to tell you this honey," the elder woman chuckled, "But for better or worse, you're in the big leagues now."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_Fish don't fry in the kitchen,_

_Beef don't burn on the grill_…etc.

Yes, I know it's been a long hiatus. The only excuses I can give are that I've been moving a lot and I've been depressed a whole lot more all the time I've been away. I made a promise to someone that I'm going to try to fight the beast that steals my joy.

Four more chapters or so to go.

Stay tuned. (If you haven't already lost interest, in which case I don't blame you.)


	13. Aftershock

Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter Twelve

"Aftershock"

"_I catch myself smile."_

_-Duncan Sheik-_

Misao's jaw remained slack with disbelief as Yumi gently led her by the hand into Soujiro's luxurious executive floor. Her luminous eyes, wide with shock, seemed awfully childlike as they struggled to take it all in. The sensuous harmony of glass and steel that curved to form the walls around them made the building seem a living thing. Her eyes fell to the lush carpet on the floor beneath her feet that caressed the soles of her department store brand shoes. They coveted the lush, live plants that flourished in the natural light afforded to them by the buildings transparent walls. To their far left, a young woman with a short, punk-inspired haircut and cute features smiled from behind a desk of sculpted glass that danced in harmony with the rest of the room.

"Welcome back, sir." The young woman beamed from her station.

"You make it sound like I've been away for a year, Ami." Soujiro replied with a gentle smile.

The young woman gave a little laugh as she blushed and rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, her carefully sculpted spikes barely taking any damage as they sprung back up vigorously from under her hand.

Keiko giggled and mimicked her from where Soujiro had set her down on the floor. Obviously less intimidated by her new surroundings than her mother was, she ran straight up to Soujiro's secretary and grabbed her around the legs in a kindergarten bear hug before releasing her stunned captive, who then obligingly kneeled down so she could be at the child's eye level.

"Hello there," Ami smiled, "What's your name?"

"Kei-ko!" Keiko shouted enthusiastically, "What your name?"

"Ami." Ami said with a smile.

Keiko momentarily placed a thumb in her mouth and gave a thoughtful look. Soon, she smiled and touched Ami's hair, "Spiky!" she announced, "Spiky Ami-chan!"

Misao instantly snapped out of her reverie. "Keiko!" she firmly but gently scolded, "Say, Ami-san, not Ami-chan."

Keiko's bottom lip pushed itself out in a pout of toddler defiance, "Ami-chan." She repeated, her little lip pushing itself out further.

"Ami-san." Misao repeated, just as firmly as before.

"Chan!" the two year old insisted.

"Sa-n." Misao said, unmoved by her daughter's attempt to show off.

Soujiro grinned knowingly and nudged Yumi with his elbow. "Remind you of anybody, sis?"

Yumi slit her glittering eyes at her younger brother while trying (and failing) to suppress a smile of her own.

"Shaddap." She hissed.

Ami smiled and waved her hands in front of her as if trying to dissipate the tension between mother and daughter, "Maa, maa," she cooed, "I really don't mind if she calls me that Makimachi-san."

Misao raised her eyebrows slightly in surprise; she was not accustomed to being addressed so formally. Plus, she was surprised that Soujiro's secretary already knew her full name. But then again, an assistant to such an obviously high ranking employer would be an efficient person wouldn't she?

"Please call me Misao, Ami-san." She replied with a warm smile before cutting her eyes at her child in a _"Don't you think that gets you off the hook, little missy,"_ sort of way.

Keiko simply closed her eyes and tried to do her best at appearing smug.

Soujiro suppressed his smile just long enough to address the little hellfire that Misao had given birth to. "Now Keiko-chan," he said just as calmly as her mother had, "It's not nice to argue with Mommy. Say sorry."

Keiko opened her eyes and looked at Soujiro, suddenly sheepish. "I'm sowwie." she said in a voice that matched her shamefaced look.

Yumi whistled softly to herself as both she and Misao each raised an eyebrow in Soujiro's direction.

"Go, Papa-san," Yumi muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Soujiro blushed brightly and coughed into his fist before walking over to Misao and placing his arm around her waist and turning her in the direction of his office.

"Ami," he asked, "Would you prepare some tea for us please?"

"Certainly sir," the young woman replied, the corners of her lips twitching with the effort not to pull upward.

Yumi rolled her eyes and strolled over toward the toddler next to Ami's desk. She smiled at the child as she stooped to meet her curious gaze.

"I'm Yumi," she said while extending her hand, "Want to come see Soujiro's office with us?"

Keiko hesitated for a moment, reading the beautiful woman's eyes before her own eyes brightened at something that she saw there and she grabbed the proffered hand excitedly. Misao beamed to see Keiko take to Yumi so easily, but Soujiro was the only other one in the room to know what Keiko had seen in Yumi's eyes that had drawn her in so irresistibly.

Pure mischief.

* * *

"**Get the fuck OUT**!" Yuki squealed. 

"**Oi**!" Hiko shouted from the depths of the back room. "**No cussing**!"

"Get the _fuck_ out!" Yuki repeated in an excited whisper.

Misao closed her eyes and shrugged. "And here I was, thinking he was an office clerk or something."

"Wow!" Yuki sighed to herself, "Handsome, loves children and Iwipemyasswithtwenties rich. I hate you Misao."

Misao's smile curled to one side cynically, "You make it sound like he proposed to me or something. Soujiro and I are happy with things just the way they are." She paused as if thinking and giggled to herself for a moment before continuing. "Soujiro isn't the sugar daddy type anyway, and I don't need one."

Yuki's hand shot up as if she were in a class where she was the only one who knew the right answer, "Screw you," she said before loudly announcing, "I would like a sugar daddy please, with a side of sports car and a designer wardrobe to go!"

"I'd like an upscale condominium with mine, please." Suki added.

"And a Gold card!" Sasami chimed in.

"Hellz yeah," Mashiro agreed from behind the bar.

"Stop encouraging her!" Misao scolded them.

"But seriously Misao, what are you going to do now that you know? It must have had some kind of an effect on you?" Mashiro asked.

Misao sighed deeply, "If I think about it, I get so nervous I want to throw up. So I prefer not to. I love Soujiro. Soujiro loves me. I want to keep it as simple as it is and not bother too much with the social implications..." she trailed off into a pause of silence so thick you could feel it on your skin.

Yuki, the ever-emotional, began to tear up and broke the spell with a lilting wail.

"That's SO beautiful!"

Misao sighed for the third time out of exasperation.

"Mashiro,_please_ give Yuki a drink, I'm going backstage to change."

"Will do, mistress."

"Love is SO beautiful!"

"Kami-sama, now I need a drink! How about it Sass, one for the road?"

"Aye, aye, Suki-sempai!"

"Waaheheh! So BEAUTIFUL!"

"Yuki, have you been sneaking from my secret stash again?"

"Waheh…eh?"

"I KNEW IT!" he shouted, swiping at the snow princess from behind the bar like a big, ginger tomcat.

Yuki squealed and hopped off her stool, away from the offending hand just as Misao disappeared behind the bead curtain that marked the entrance to Hiko's office-slash-storeroom and the dancer's dressing rooms. Just as she crossed his door, which was marked by a big gaudy gold star marked "Manager" on it, she heard his voice boom from inside.

"Misao?" Come in here, I want to talk to you a minute."

"Alright," she answered before pushing the door back against the force of the automatic closing device installed above it.

As the door quietly swung shut behind her, Misao's eyes adjusted themselves to the relative brightness of the fluorescent lights in Hiko's office. The walls were covered in a flat, deep blue carpet so as to muffle the sound of the music from the main area when the club was in full swing. However, now, in the after-hours, the only sound in the room was that of Hiko shuffling papers with his large, elegant hands from where he sat behind his big, black desk in the far corner. A large amount of the remaining space in the room was used to store various items needed in the club. Crates of beer and hard liquor were stacked against one cerulean wall. Next to them were impossibly huge rolls of one-ply toilet paper tightly wrapped in shrunk plastic and a sealed box of what the men referred to as "urinal-cakes". The small round blocks of toilet freshener that never quite did their jobs at making the urinal any fresher, but who made up for their aromatic shortcoming by offering themselves up as perfect marks for target practice.

Almost immediately after the door swung closed, Misao felt a familiar warmth rumble around her bare ankles. Looking down to her impossibly high platform pumps, she saw a big, furry, familiar face with a pair of eyes greener than any she had seen on any human look up to meet hers. It was Mu, Hiko's humongous calico cat and the current queen of his household. Mu let out a cordial meow and lifted one sheathed, silky paw to touch Misao's smooth shin in quiet supplication as she looked up.

Understanding, Misao knelt and swept the cat, as big as a small dog, into her arms. There, next Misao's soft, creamy bosom the cat's purr deepened and increased in volume as Misao's short nails scratched under her chin for the most pleasurable spot.

"Fatty," Misao scolded, "Stop making Hiko overfeed you."

Looking up toward the three quarter view she had of the back of Hiko's head, she could see the arm of his grandpa-glasses looping behind his left ear. Her eyes wandered into his hair, where she found herself mildly shocked to notice that his long, gleaming coif, while not lost in the department of thickness and luster, was now more than thirty percent gray. In the years that had passed she had somehow not noticed how even he, had aged, and it made her wonder, what else had changed when she wasn't looking?

Without turning around, Hiko set his stack of invoices down and slipped off the surprisingly thick lenses on top of them. "So?" he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose where the supporting clips had dug into his tanned skin, "I see that your ship has come in, so to speak."

Misao opened her mouth to protest but Hiko turned and waved his hand in front of him to interrupt her. "I wasn't talking about his money, Misao," he said, as if reading her mind. "I was talking about what you said a few minutes ago out there.

Misao cocked her head to the side, making a comical picture with her quizzical look sitting atop her lacy lingerie and the large feline in arms. How, she wondered, had he heard anything outside these walls? She was convinced that his ears had to be bionic or something.

"You heard me?" she asked dubiously.

"Aa," he quietly confirmed, "every last word. Especially the one that starts with 'L'."

Misao blushed, as if now feeling the impact of her words for herself. "I did say that, didn't I?" she quietly admitted, looking down to where Mu cuddled against her, eyes almost closed with pleasure.

"Yes you did." he replied, "And don't get me wrong, I am happy that you did."

Misao looked up at him again, surprise showing plainly on her face.

"Yes, you heard me," he repeated, "I'm HAPPY that you're finally in love with someone. Better yet, that person seems to adore you completely."

Hiko looked at her in a way that no one ever had seen him appear before. For once, his chiseled features abandoned their practiced haughtiness and his deep, brown eyes looked into hers with a solemnity that she didn't know he had in him.

"Misao," he explained, "When you meet a woman that doesn't make you balk at the sound of the word "forever", you want her in every aspect of your life. You don't hide her away from your associates and family. You put her up there for everyone to see and you stand beside her. You acknowledge her to be your woman, good response or bad. Has it occurred to you what he's done? He's admitted his feelings for you at the risk of losing everything he has."

Misao stood frozen in shock for a moment before she realized what was happening. There was a feeling of something swelling painfully in her throat followed by involuntary spasms in the muscle surrounding her lips and a burning sensation in her eyes. But it was not until the first fat, warm drops fell onto her hands and seeped into Mu's fur did she realize that she was crying. The big cat in her arms made a sympathetic noise and clambered up to lick her face, making the tears flow even faster.

"I know," she said in a quiet, broken voice, "I don't want to stop loving him, but I don't want to ruin his life either. I…I don't know what to do…" she broke off, burying her face in Mu's thick fur. Mu, determined to comfort the young woman if it was the last thing she did, furiously licked at any patch of skin she could reach, her grainy tongue laving over Misao's temples, forehead and ears.

Misao stood there for a moment before she felt herself being enveloped in warmth and cloth-covered muscle. Hiko held her close for a moment until Mu gave a little whuff of exasperation that made Misao giggle through her tears.

"I'm sorry Mu," she apologized, "Did we crush you?"

Mu indignantly licked her own shoulder as if to say, _"What, that? Please, it barely fazed me."_

Hiko laughed softly and lifted his leading lady-cat onto his broad shoulder, where she perched as comfortably as she would had he been a brick wall.

Misao smiled and wiped her eyes. "You missed your calling as a high-school counselor, Hiko-san." she said.

"Pfft. Like they could ever pay me what I'm worth," Hiko huffed, his old, accustomed hauteur instantly returning. Holding her seriously with his eyes in the next moment, he made his voice firm and deep.

"You have some thinking to do, young lady." he said sternly.

"Yes sir, I do." she agreed.

Nodding sharply, he turned to tidy up his desk, Mu still on her precarious perch. "Go home," he ordered with his back turned, "Have a warm bath, kiss your daughter goodnight and get some damned sleep. I might be the owner, but I like to go home when I've had enough of one day too."

Misao smiled wider and opened the door to make her exit. Then, as if on a second thought she paused and turned her head back towards him.

"Thank you Hiko-tou-san." she said.

By the time he looked up in surprise, the door had closed and Misao was no longer in the room. His distinguished features softened like they never would in the sight of another human being. Mu jumped off his shoulder onto the desk with the ease of a falling feather, despite her size, and looked briefly to the door before looking back up at him.

"That's some girl we've got there, eh darling?" he smiled.

"Meow." she agreed.

* * *

**Author's Notes.**

_Japan-speak:_

_Tou-san - Dad  
_

Another chapter finished. I'm proud of myself. I've been catching up on my reading lately to try and get back in the groove. Mostly animal stories and a memoir of a certain pet owner and the world's worst dog. Mu, therefore, was an afterthought brought on by my choice of reading material. I do have pets of my own, although now I can hardly call them mine as they live back home with my parents. They are; my handsome, wild, canine prince Zeus, my formidably built sour-puss of a tomcat Boots, the ever lovable, tail wagging, more than slightly cracked, Spike and my late, great, sausage-shaped keeper of all that was right with my childhood, Lynx. I miss them all so much every single day.

Drop me a line. It really is appreciated.


	14. My Addiction

Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter Thirteen "My Addiction"

"We're in this together now."

Nine Inch Nails

_I am happy._

The affirmation that entered his thoughts made Soujiro smile in spite of himself. Out of the corner of his slate coloured eyes he could see more than a few members of the board casting him curious sidelong glances, but he didn't care. He owed them no explanation for his smile and he wasn't about to give them any either. It was not like any of them would understand anyway. Most of these people were greedy old men who were more in love with their bank accounts than anything else and kept their families around them for more image-preserving purposes than anything else. He was not like them. He never would be. That was something that he had learned years ago when he his father gave him his first instruction in running the company.

He could almost see his father's amused gray-green eyes flicking over the faces of these old men, trying hard to conceal the pity that he felt for them all. Seta Allen had loved his family dearly, and for all the years of his short life, made them and spending time with them his number one priority. Yumi had more than once commented on her father's commitment to his family with pride in her voice, declaring that if there was ever a better father for her, she did not want to meet him, for she was incredibly happy with the one that she had had.

Soujiro knew only a little about his father's own childhood, though. He had always suspected that his older sister knew much more than he did but for some reason, she did not want to share her information with him. Understandable, considering what he did know did not paint a picture of a particularly happy history.

Seta Allen was apparently born out of an illegitimate relationship between a wealthy and handsome German businessman and a much younger, enchantingly beautiful working-class Japanese girl. After a short, deceptive relationship, Allen's father left Soujiro's grandmother pregnant and heartbroken to raise their child alone. Only to return many years later to reclaim his son when it had become perfectly clear that he was the only one he would ever have.

Allen was educated in Germany's finest university, where his incredible artistic and mathematical talents earned him a degree in architecture. Soon after that, he left Germany and his father behind for unknown reasons and returned to Japan to found his own company. Naturally, it had occurred to Soujiro it was the gap in his own childhood caused by his father not being around for him that had inspired Allen to be the kind of father that he was to his own children. Whatever the reason, Soujiro was grateful.

"Seta-sama," an unamused and gravelly voice disrupted his musings, "I wish that you would take this project more seriously, it could mean a significant rise in revenue for the company and its stakeholders."

_"Most importantly yourself, you greedy old pig,"_ Soujiro thought to himself bitterly. The project the old man was talking about was an extremely large one and receiving the contract would certainly mean more money in everyones pockets. It was in fact a proposal that did not cover just one or two lots, but several blocks in the heart of the city. That would mean some major bucks for them, but on the flip side, those blocks were currently the home of several low-income families who simply couldn't afford to do better for themselves. When asked of the developers what would happen to these people during and after construction, all Soujiro had gotten was a watery, mumbled sentence in which he could barely hear the word "relocated" thrown somewhere in the middle. Soujiro had firmly let them know that until they could give him a straight answer, the designs would not be drawn. Obviously, they had attempted to go over his head, (or rather, behind his back) to these greedy old men who were now trying to push him into the contract. He didn't doubt that all of them had already had their palms properly greased and were eager to get them even stickier. However, it wouldn't do them any good. His father had taught him well, and he remained the largest stakeholder by a country mile. They could move Mount Fuji into the ocean before they moved him out of his seat. He sighed heavily and straightened himself in his chair, his entire expression had changed and his voice was low and dangerous, like an animal's warning growl just before it attacks.

"My father," Soujiro said firmly, "founded this company on a certain set of principles. Principles that allowed him to do what he loved and be in service to his fellow man at the same time. He believed in playing fair, working hard and..." He paused, his suddenly wolf-like eyes staring pointedly in the direction of the man who had just addressed him.

"...Ethical profit."

The old man squirmed under the younger man's gaze like a live worm thrown into a tequila bottle. Soujiro held him there for a little bit longer, a part of him deep inside smiling at the power he held over his board members. Then, just as abruptly, he released the man from his glare to face the others.

"Gentlemen," he said with a calm smile, "Money is important, but more important to me is my father's legacy, which I fully intend to uphold, for his honor, as well as my own. So, until I can get a straight answer to my question, this discussion as well as this meeting, are over. Good day to you all."

With that, he pushed his chair back, stood up, and motioned toward the exit, a clear sign to the others that it was time for them to leave. There was a brief din of sleek, leather chairs turning on their axis and a seashell-echo of sheaves of paper being collected into smart, suede-covered binders before they all pattered out across the polished marble floor in their designer shoes and suits, smelling of cologne that had no other merit besides being ridiculously expensive. Soujiro was only too glad to see them go.

"Ahem," a quiet, feminine voice coughed behind him gingerly, "Seta-sama, don't you think you were just a little bit too...blunt? They are long-standing members of the board after all."

Soujiro sighed heavily, "All the more reason to be blunt, Ami-chan," he said gently as he flopped back into his chair and ran his hands through his hair as if frustrated. "Those old farts have been making money since before my father started this company, and it's never ever enough." he sighed, his bangs stirring with the force of the expelled air. "If I'm even the littlest bit lenient with the buggers they'll crawl all over me and the company's good name would ruined in a week."

Ami patted his shoulder gently as she set a steaming cup of chai in front of him. "I understand, sir." she smiled.

Soujiro lifted the cup to his nose and breathed in deep. The sweet, mellow scent of vanilla filled him with an instant wave of peace in a way that only Ami's tea could.

"Now would be an excellent time to discuss a raise in salary, if I do say so myself." Soujiro chuckled.

Ami smiled again, wider than before. "Yeah, but I'll let you go on that one for now." she said with a laugh as she sat across from him and set down a plate of chocolate-covered biscuits between them on the boardroom table.

Soujiro's eyes almost glistened, "I will love you forever, Suzahara Ami." he said.

"I know." Ami smiled, "Now finish your tea."

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A deep baseline vibrated the floor and walls of the club as the lights dimmed everywhere but the stage. Misao's arm and shoulder muscles showed up plainly under her smooth skin as she gripped the pole with the tenacity of a wrestler, using the arm to propel her body forward and up as she lifted both high-heeled feet off the floor and swung around it with an effortless grace that only comes after years of hard training. Her jet-black hair tumbled around her face and down her back in a mess of huge curls, just barley being held up by a pair of golden, rhinestone studded combs above either ear. Her chosen outfit wrapped round her body in a twin spiral of golden fabric barely concealed by an teddy of light gold twill that may as well have been an illusion of the light rather than an actual piece of clothing. Her thick eyelashes swooped seductively over her catlike eyes and her glossy lips, the colour of ripe peaches, drifted slightly apart, giving her face an expression that was truly alluring.

"She's sexy tonight, isn't she?" Hiko said to himself as he sat by the bar, watching the dazed expressions on the faces of the men (and a few women) who came to see their "goddess" dance. He couldn't blame them. Misao, always a force to be reckoned with on the stage, was positively ravishing to behold. The movements of her lovely body enhanced by her ever-lovely face which tonight, for some reason held an expression that made her look so....so...

"Innocent," Mashiro said, as if reading his thoughts, "She looks like a young girl."

Hiko looked back to see Mashiro polishing glasses and setting them on their assigned shelves at the back of the bar as if he'd never said anything at all.

Hiko smirked, his arrogant expression returning to him like a willing lover. _"L'amour est la plus grande esthéticienne."_ he smiled, tipping his glass to his lips.

"Oh, Hiko-sama," Mashiro said dryly, "Don't speak French, you know what it does to me."

"Shaddap." snapped Hiko.

Misao finished her set and collected the tips that her fans had littered the stage with before disappearing behind the curtains amid lingering applause.

A few moments later a tired Misao dressed in jeans and a black shirt hopped up on the stool next to Hiko. Mashiro raised an eyebrow in amusement as he looked at the pair. Misao always looked larger than life under the glow of the spotlight, but the hulking figure of Hiko dwarfed Misao's five foot five frame, making her look truly _petite_.

"What?" Misao frowned, trying to read Mashiro's expression.

"Nothing," said the red-haired bartender as he set a fresh gin and tonic in front of her.

Misao gave him a brief look of curiosity before taking a sip of her drink.

Hiko balled his fist over his mouth and cleared his throat. "That was a good set you did out there just now," he said, "That expression on your face was...um...interesting."

Misao frowned and pretended to pick at a loose thread on her sleeve to hide the blood that rushed to her cheeks. She could only imagine what her expression was like while she dancing. Of late, she found herself picturing Soujiro in the audience, watching her. As a result, she danced as if she were dancing for him and him only. Given the sudden raise in her already generous tips, she could only guess that it had improved her performance somewhat.

"So..." Hiko continued, "Has he proposed yet?"

Misao sucked a mouthful of gin into her lungs and began to cough violently, leaning over the bar like a sick cat. Mashiro patted her back and glared at Hiko who was smiling into his own glass like a naughty child.

"That's not funny, _old man_." Misao snarled through her coughing.

"Sticks and stones, my dear, stick and stones." Hiko replied arrogantly, smile still pasted to his lips.

Mashiro gave Misao a drink of water to soothe her irritated throat. After the coughing died down she wiped her reddened face with her sleeve and ran her fingers through her hair and propped up her chin with her hand.

"Don't make jokes like that, Hiko," she said softly, almost sadly, "Marrying me would only ruin his life."

"I don't think that it would." he replied.

"It would." she said stubbornly.

"You're young, you're smart and you're pretty," Hiko insisted, "What's there to ruin?"

"I'm also poor, a stripper and have an illegitimate child." Misao mumbled.

"Exotic dancer," Hiko corrected, "And you do it well. Your child is healthy and well taken care of and you did it all by yourself."

For a moment Misao looked up to see not Hiko's but Soujiro's face smiling back at her. She blinked, focusing on Hiko's stern face once more. "Listen," he growled, "One day, very soon that boy is going to ask to marry you, because he adores you. And," he said, raising a finger to stifle Misao's protest, "You are going to say 'yes' because you adore him too. That's all there is to it."

Misao pouted and sipped her drink again as if to say "Yeah, right."

"Hiko-sama is always right mon cherie," Hiko smiled as he lifted his glass again, "Don't fight the force."

*************************************************

"That FUCKING brat!" the old man shouted, slamming a fat fist into the bar in front of him, "Who the FUCK does he think he is?!"

"Maa Maa," his friend said, patting his shoulder. "That's the problem with you Akatsuka, you waste too much energy hating and not enough doing anything about it."

"And just what the fuck are you going to do about it, Kuzo?" the old man said as he glared at his friend with alcohol-reddened eyes.

Kuzo Hayato smiled in a way that made his features twist into that of a bird of prey. "I heard that the first son has a new woman in his life, even brought her to the company with him."

"So what," his fat friend huffed, "Playboys like to show off their playthings."

Hayato's smile spread at the corners, "This plaything has a child."

Akatsuka Roukorou's ears pricked up like a dog's, "Eh? You sure she isn't just a divorcee or something?"

"A girl that young and pretty?" Hayato said, "Not likely. And like I always say my friend, " the thinner man said as he raised his glass to clink it against his friend's.

"Where there's a scandal, there's a way."

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Author's Notes:

Yes my dears. I live. I just seemed to be dead for the last few months because I was working under someone who was insanely jealous of me, my spirit, and put so much damn pressure on me I burned myself out. Nuff said 'bout that bitch.

I am now free and I intend to finish what I started.

French Speak:

_L'amour est la plus grande esthéticienne - _Love is the greatest beautician.

I like to put a little of myself into my characters. I have no idea how tall Misao is supposed to be in the original Rurouni Kenshin story, so I decided to give her my height, which I consider short. Also, gin and tonic is my favourite alcoholic combo, although I have been known to fool around with vodka on the side. And no, I'm no lush.

Next chapter appears in a week's time.

Chao!


	15. The Smell of a Rat

Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter Fourteen

The Smell of a Rat

_"The Devil's tryin' to break me down"_

-Kanye West-

_What have you done to me?  
I can't eat, I cannot sleep  
And I'm not the same anymore  
I don't know what to do  
Cause all of me wants all of you  
Do I stand alone at the shore?  
Now once I could turn away  
From everything I feel today  
But, now I want to walk  
through your door_

But I've got to know - oh  
Body and soul  
That you've got no doubt  
inside and out  
We are whole - oh  
Body and soul  
Don't leave me out in the cold  
Just love me body and soul 

Misao's voice flowed like honey from a golden spoon as her body swayed in time with the music from the band behind her. Her heavy lidded eyes drifting almost closed as if in ecstasy as she carried every note to the peak of its sweetness.

_I've wasted too much time  
Livin' for what wasn't mine  
Then came the day I found you  
And now I want nothing less  
I've found a love that is truly blessed  
And I wanna make dreams come true_

But I've got to know - oh  
Body and soul  
that you've got no doubt,  
inside and out  
We are whole - oh  
Body and soul  
Don't leave me out in the cold,  
Just love me body and soul 

Her crystal chandelier earrings caught the spotlight above the stage to cast playful rainbow patterns that chased one another across the smooth skin of her cheeks. Light sparkled like distant stars in the depths of her ocean colored eyes as they swept past all the other people in the lounge and settled squarely on his own. Her sequined dress sparkled and shone with every move of her body, cloth gliding over skin, skin gliding over muscles and curves. Glorious glitter highlighting her lush breasts, swooping down to the the succulent shape of her hips, curving backward over the arch of her behind. A delicious display of sexual temptation garnished with the light of the stars themselves.

_Every day is getting better,  
The more I trust I feel  
stronger, stronger  
Every kiss brings me closer,  
It feels good to LET you  
inside _

Soujiro's tongue swept across his bottom lip in anticipation of the night ahead as his eyes greedily took her in from his seat at the bar. Did he look like a hungry pervert? Yes. Did he care? No. After all, he loved this woman with all his heart, body and...

_...soul oh,_

_is there any doubt  
in your mind?  
oh babe,  
love me baby  
love me  
Just love me,  
body, baby and soul,  
Just love me....  
Body... and.....soul_

As the song ended, many of the patrons came to their feet to shower the young cabaret singer and band with applause. Misao giggled audibly as the band leader made a show of kissing her hand as he led her offstage. The sound of her own laughter surprised her inside. When was the last time she laughed like this? Her heart felt lighter than it had in years, she could feel herself glowing from the inside in a way that she never felt before. She couldn't stop smiling if she wanted to.

As she excused herself and turned away from a small group of patrons who were complimenting her on her singing, a shadow placed itself between herself and the bar which was only a few feet away. She looked up into the rat-like face of a man who she had never seen before. He was smiling, but the smile stopped somewhere above his long nose and never quite made it into his dark, narrow eyes.

"That was beautiful song you did there Makamachi-san," he grinned, "you seem to be multi-talented."

The sound of her last name took her aback. How did this man know her real name? Who the hell was he? Smile rapidly disappearing from her lips, Misao unconsciously took a step back into a familiar pair of arms. She looked up over her shoulder to see Soujiro staring down the man who had interrupted her. She opened her mouth to say his name, but no sound came out when she saw an expression on his face that she had never seen before. She was used to Soujiro's warm eyes and gentle smile but this time his gray eyes were as cold and hard as steel. Whoever this man was, Soujiro knew him and did not care for him very much at all.

"Kuzo san," Soujiro said quietly and dangerously, "What a pleasure to see that you have a social life outside of the office."

Misao's jaw dropped. She never heard Soujiro be so...sarcastic before. To tell the truth, she didn't think that he had it in him at all. Looking back at the man he called Kuzo, she saw that his expression had considerably soured. Her gaze swept from man to man, the full force of the tension between them bearing down on her like a physical weight.

"I'll cut to the chase Seta," Kuzo growled, "My friend and I have a lot riding on that little project that you keep cock-blocking. So we..." he said gesturing to a fat man at a dark corner table who lifted his glass in acknowledgement, "have decided to cut you a little deal."

"I don't accept bribes, Kuzo." Soujiro growled, "You and Akatsuka both know that."

"Who's bribing?" Kuzo shrugged, pasting his fake smile back on, "I just think that it'd be a shame if your investors found out that you were dating a stripper. Might make 'em antsy y'know?"

Misao's eyes flew wide open with shock and fear. Ever since the day that Soujiro had taken her and Keiko to his office she had dreaded that something like this would happen eventually. She could feel her entire body stiffening as the color drained from her face. She had been fooling herself. Soujiro could never be with someone like her. Now his whole life was going to be ruined because of her...

A pair of warm hands wrapping around her waist and folding her into an equally warm and strong chest stopped her in mid-thought. Soujiro looked down at her with warm, reassuring eyes and although no words were spoken, she felt herself nod her head, trusting him to make it all right again.

Soujiro gently rubbed his thumb across Misao's jaw as she looked up at him with the expression of a frightened rabbit. He could feel his thoughts sync with hers as she placed her trust in him, slightly nodding her head. So scared and yet so brave. If this wasn't the woman for him he wouldn't accept any other as long as he lived. He looked back at Kuzo with another kind of smile entirely, one that sent shivers down the rat's spine.

"You know, Kuzo," he said, "My father didn't just teach me how to run the company. He also taught me how to keep it."

Kuzo shifted uncomfortably on his feet, smile easily morphing into a sneer. "What the fuck are you talking about, Seta?" he smirked.

Soujiro cocked his head to the side as his smile widened, " How _is_ your wife, Kuzo?" he asked, " I heard that she's trying to get your twins into that new preparatory school that all the richers and diplomats use. Plus, your wedding anniversary is coming up too...what is it again? The 14th? I know she'll be planning a lavish affair for that as well."

"Why the fuck are you talking about my family?" snapped Kuzo.

"Why the fuck are you harassing my woman?" Soujiro countered, deadly venom dripping from every word. He stepped forward, squarely placing himself between Kuzo and Misao, like a wolf protecting its cub.

"But even more importantly than that," Soujiro continued dangerously, "Wouldn't it just be a crying shame if your, good, Christian wife found out that her fine, upstanding husband was a closet homosexual?"

Kuzo's eyes looked like they were about to roll out of their sockets. What little color there was drained from his pale face and his entire body began to shake like a leaf.

"What...what are you talking about?!" he shouted, desperately trying to save face.

"Oh yes," Soujiro purred, "I can even give her your boyfriend's address so she and he can go over the surveillance photo's I had taken of the two of you on your last '_business_ _trip_'," Soujiro smirked as he curled his index and middle fingers to make quotation marks in the air.

Huge beads of sweat that had formed on the bald spot above Kuzo's forehead began to roll down his face like tears. His mouth opened and shut like a beached fish, and like a beached fish, no sound came out of it. Moving in for the kill, Soujiro placed his hands on the man's shoulders and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Oh, and if you think your fat friend over there got away from me, he didn't," Soujiro hissed, "I know all about that fat pedophile and his sick schoolgirl fantasies. As a matter of fact...why don't the two of you come over sometime. We can watch the videotape together."

Kuzo backed away from Soujiro as if he had just bitten his ear off. He looked at him only for a brief moment before stumbling away toward the table where his partner sat, clumsily bumping into people and furniture all the way there as he continued to glance over his shoulder as if he were afraid Soujiro would follow.

Kuzo reached the table and grabbed Akatsuka by the arm, yanking him out of his seat as he headed for the exit.

"What the..." Akatsuka stammered, "What are you doing?!"

"We've got to go." was all Kuzo would say, his face telling the rest of the story for him.

Confused and concerned, the fatty followed.

Misao was speechless as she watched the older man throw himself backward after Soujiro had spoken into his ear. She could not hear what he had said, but the expression on the man called Kuzo's face was beyond fear. It was as if the man had seen the Devil himself.

"What did you say to him?" she asked, more to herself than her man.

Soujiro wrapped one arm around her waist and gave her hip a gentle pat. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with, love." he said. Drawing her closer he stared intently into her emerald eyes, his own eyes burning with a hunger that no meal would satisfy.

"We've planned this night for weeks," he said, his voice husky and hungry, "Let's not let a rat and a pig ruin the entire night for us, ne?" He placed his free hand under her chin and gently tilted her head upward, "It's a man's job to protect the people that he loves, and..." he whispered, bending to hold his lips a breath away from hers.

"...to satisfy the woman that he loves."

Heat flashed across Misao's body like an electric current. She forgot all about the fear that had gripped her just moments before and even about the two vile men who had tried to ruin their night. All of her was filled with Soujiro and all of her body ached to be alone with him. Her eyelids suddenly grew heavy and her beautiful eyes peeked seductively from under her lashes as she whispered back, her tone no less hungry than his...

"As you wish, my lord."

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Author's Notes:

Songs quoted:

Jesus Walks - by Kanye West

Body and Soul - by Anita Baker

First of all...

I love Anita Baker, love, love, love. love, love.

Now with that out of the way...

Sorry the update is late. I got caught up in babysitting and other family things. I'm aiming for eighteen chapters in this story and I'm trying to make it all plot-twistylicious for you all. I've already got everything outlined, so I only have to work out the small details. And I must admit, although I like writing, it's hard to do. Especially when its not the only thing on your mind. I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible, so please bear wit h me. I promise it'll be worth it.

Oh, and also. Neither my version of Soujiro nor myself is homophobic. As a matter of fact, what really irks me is all the brainwashed people of the world that use religion as an excuse to abuse people. Not just Christianity, all religions that encourage discrimination of gays, blacks, women, whatever. Lord knows how many times I've nearly cussed a coworker out for regurgitating what her preacher said in this and or that sermon. I'd be like, get a brain, bitch and try thinking for yourself for once.

So that's my thoughts on that. God, good. Discrimination, bad. People under the influence of indoctrination, stupid. I'm a pretty simple chick.

Till next time.


End file.
